Fallen memories
by Radiklement
Summary: Bradley has forgotten all his past as a human. He also forgot Father, and said Father is dead. What happens when his old wife come to get him, while he doesn't remember her? How will she face him, knowing about all the lies? love, angst and comfort fic
1. Chapter 1

FMA Brotherhood AU fic – Taking place after every homunculus lost their Father and all memory of their past, this is a story of how one woman may fight to get back the man who had lied to her for a whole life. Despite anger and betrayal, despite lies and pain, she'll get him back and help him in relearning all there was to know about himself, be it the best or the worst... –mega spoilers of the brotherhood series –Bradley's account-, if any of you didn't guess-

Fallen memories – Part 1

It should have happened during a rainy, stormy day. Bad stuff always happened on stormy days. But it had been a day without rain, with a cloudless sky, a beautiful day indeed. Father's plan was working out perfectly, or so it should have been. No way to predict their creator would be killed and with him, all purpose in their life drained away. Bradley couldn't remember. All he remembered was the dark creature's pitiful voice had as its life was extinguished. If one should have been declared guilty of Father's fall, it would have to be Greed. But they were all at fault. Weren't they sinners after all?

It had been one year since Father's fall. The whole conspiracy had been exposed by some low ranked soldier, someone everyone thought dead, a boring man, always talking of his daughter, his eyes shining behind his glasses. Not that any homunculus could remember that fact. They had forgotten the fights to protect their old man as much as why they would ever protect him. Military had registered this fateful day as the First Crisis. Alchemy had never been eyed the same way after that people discovered their own top leader was a manmade human. The news spreads to other countries and a war broke on every border, as Amestris' neighbours thought they could benefits from the shaken state of their enemy to add on more territory and resources.

But, after taking down Father underneath Central, the new army was ready for more than simple human soldiers. The newly appointed general Armstrong and her man from Briggs, Mustang's group and many more, especially state alchemist, like the Fullmetal; they all gathered under General Grumman's authority. This war, the Second Crisis, had been a massacre. While the man made puppets sleeping under Central had been burned to ashes, the homunculi had been kept alive. They sure were hard to kill and Grumman had decided that since they were so useful to the conspiracy behind the military, why couldn't they serve the military.

Their Father's dead had left them deaf to the past, with no memory or longing to anything in this world. Sloth was the hardest to convince into accomplishing a task, but they all needed a master. Greed and Pride had been lost along the fights, but Lust, Glutonny, Envy, and Wrath were all still quite alive. Shaken from the change in their life, so shaken in fact they didn't remember their name and powers at first. It came back quickly, but no other memories followed. King Bradley couldn't recognize his own wife, or claim he had ever been Fuhrer. Their characters hadn't changed, but they were lost souls. Or well, lost monsters.

The lower ranked soldier, as colonel Mustang, or Edward Elric, didn't like the way Grumman decided to work with the left homunculi. But the general needed an invincible army. And he had it. He quickly discovered that exposing the monsters to the remnants of their Father drove them in a state of utter fear, which made them controllable. So he controlled them and tasked them to defend the country's borders. Envy was send to the west, Lust to the east, Wrath to the north and Glutonny to the south. A bunch of soldier, carefully chosen by Grumman, had been asked to watch over the homunculus to make sure it followed orders. Sloth was kept as the rear guard, right in Central, where the uncorrupted scientists and alchemists started running test on his sleeping body.

Amestris quickly kicked out any enemy soldier, building herself a reputation of having invincible soldiers amongst her troops, if not awful monsters that could slip in their ranks by taking the face of their own general, before to kill them all in their sleep. Once the war stopped, the homunculi were sold to whoever wanted them, as long as their owner promised not to use them against the country. The citizens needed to forget and as their birth had been a secret, Grumman made sure their disappearance was also quite discreet. A few rumours were running, about how they were still all living under Central and for the first few years following Both Crisis, the capital wasn't feeling as secure a place to live.

Mrs Bradley still lived in Central, stripped of her first Lady title, stripped of her pride and usual joy, now reknown as the woman who never saw it coming. She was some kind of a reversed Lois Lane, living with a monster for all her life, and never knowing it. But how could others point their fingers at her, when everyone had been fooled? Her husband had been truly human once, and he still was, even if he carried the mark of the beast on his eye, as she had heard. Since Father's fall, she hadn't seen Bradley. He had walked out a morning, smiling as always, reminding her not to search around the house, because her birthday was coming and he wanted to surprise her. And the first thing she knew in the morning, Selim was gone after his father, and his father wasn't human and the boy himself...

She remembered the sorry look on Edward's face as he brought her back her adopted child.

"Mrs. Bradley, I'm sorry but..."

The dot of a child, lying in his hand, barely looking like Selim, looking pitiful and drawn out of a myth. There was no word to be said, but Amelia needed them to understand what was going on and Edward had explained, as gently as he could, because he'd seen mother with broken heart and it was hard to be indirectly the cause of such a heartbreak.

"I'm sorry, but Selim was... a homunculus. This is his true form. I think he's gonna age normally now and..."

Of course, she had snatched the embryo of a baby from the teen's hands, yelling with pain and nonunderstanding. And it had taken a long time to explain her. They had wanted to hide the whole picture from her, but she had asked for the whole truth. And how it hurt to learn...

How much did she cry on that day, as she realized her whole life had turned into an awful lie? The man she loved. The boy she called her own son. Both allied in a terrible lie to hide her the truth of their life. Had Selim... not Selim, but Pride. Had he been laughing at her whenever she turned her back, laughing as she thought he was just a normal kid, when he fact, he was even older than Bradley, laughing as she thought he was sleeping at night, when he crept in the shadows, spying for his real master, surely spying even on her? Even four years later, with her little Selim growing up at a normal pace for a child, with the boy smiling had her with a purity that couldn't be fake, even she refused to trust her own eyes after all that had been hidden from her. How could she believe that Selim was a fake, plotting behind her back, even if he once had been? It destroyed her from the inside.

"There was no limit to their wickedness. They would corrupt everything, even a child."

But what hurt the most was to believe that Bradley had agreed into this fake of a family. How he had convinced her to adopt when she thought they were too old, saying one of his long lost sister had died and that they should really take in his nephew. How could he accept to lie to her even on that, after messing around with her for all their conjugal life? Had he ever loved her? Had he truly loved her even once, and still he'd been able to lie? That wicked bastard!

This question was the hardest to answer. She wanted to believe it. But how could it be love, when his mouth had carried out so much lies? If he could fake fatherhood with a monster, what was there for her to trust? He had been a comedian for so many years. And it hurt to think it was all a comedy. It hurt so much and so deeply, making her feels so little and stupid, she had tried to hang herself once. It had been Mustang who had stopped her, since both Hawkeye and he had taken a liking to the woman. Amelia would like to believe that Riza, who had worked a few weeks for her husband, had become her friend. And though colonel, no, general Mustang, had always wanted to see King Bradley fall from his Fuhrer's seat, he never held a grudge for the wife of the wicked homunculus. She was mad to think they pitied her, but it wasn't that either. The pair of soldiers understood her loss. Maybe did Riza understand more, after all that her own father had put her through?

Nevertheless, Roy had saved her from suicide, and convinced her not to ever commit it. She was still needed. Even if people despised her and pitied her, there were those who had questions to ask. And though she wasn't the first Lady anymore, Grumman hadn't been entirely nasty with her. He had given her a nice situation, a house closed to the public and liquid compensation –she was rich and that was an understatement- thinking it could help her forget, somehow. It didn't help, but well, she couldn't say no to it either. Even if people had stopped gossiping in her back as they saw her walking around the streets, it was still hard to keep a straight face in front of the older citizens. But Selim was such a darling now, at all time. And he needed her. Even if her body was feeling older and older and her bones and muscles protested whenever she lifted him in her arms.

He was all she still had. And it took her a long time to accept it and to understand she needed more.

On another beautiful, cloudless day, she was sitting in her room, a room she'd never shared with anyone except Selim, when he would have nightmare –and god, did the poor kid had nightmares-. Well, on that cloudless day, she sat in her rocking chair, looking at nothing in particular, trying not to remember the good old days, that were also lies, but still warmed her heart, and her gaze fell on the last gift she had from Bradley. And thought the soldiers only referred to him as Wrath now, she couldn't believe he had been Wrath incarnated. Alright, he was grumpy when she had first met him and he was really secretive. But his smile was so warm and his laugh... And on the night table, a pretty crystal ball filled with snow, was showing her a nice picture of the couple they once were. It was maybe the only picture he'd accept to take with her back in the days. He had been shy, which was hard to believe now, but also understandable.

On the picture, they were holding on each other. She stood in front of him, her back lying on his chest, his strong arms wrapped around her. She had her hands on his arms, as if to prevent him from ever letting go. And how they were smiling, as if nothing could reach them; because at that time, nothing could... They were young, so young at that time. And still, he already had the eye patch, and not because he had been wounded, but because he had to hide his ouroborous tattoo to her, and to everyone else. And though she wanted to cry, she grabbed the crystal ball in her hands, to hold it to her chest.

"How I miss you, darling. Even after learning everything, I really must be a fool, but I still miss you."

...

Bradley didn't miss her one bit. He couldn't. He had no memories of her or of anything from his past before that Father was killed and that he was turned into someone else's slave. First, he had served the military, as always, and killed countless humans. Now, he served an Asian master, a group of gangster from Xing. Whenever he wasn't killing people for them or doing any other dirty job, he would sit on some old chair, chained to a brick wall. His aging body was aching from every spot. He could have killed for a bed or a blanket. The cold air in the room was torturing his articulations and his fingers seemed to be stuck on the hilt of his blades, which he always kept unsheathed now. The chains were running over his arms and shoulders, tied around his waist and preventing him from moving a muscle. He was released only for work, or to have a chance to eat and tend to his other human needs.

He had a shower once a week, which was far from enough and if he hadn't been enhanced by his homunculus power, he would surely have fallen sick a long time ago. He could barely guess how old he was, but he felt old. All of his aching bones begged for mercy. His beard was itching because of the dirt in it and his eyes that he always kept open felt dried out. This life had no meaning, and he never felt really alive, except when he would be running in the night, after his target, and until he felt the said target dying on his blade. There was no shame or regret in the act of killing. No guilt feeling. But when he would sit for a whole day, his mind would start to think. And thinking could bring a bunch of unwanted feeling that made him feel even more uncomfortable.

How he'd wish his master wouldn't be able to control him with those remnants of a dead person he couldn't remember the face or the voice. Why he was so scared whenever they showed those bones to him, he couldn't tell. He was terrified and it was hard to refrain himself from crying if the exposure last for too long. He hated feeling so diminished, so... vulnerable.

Then, one day, someone stepped in his cell, someone familiar which made him realize he had no idea what feeling vulnerable felt like.

"You're sure you want to buy him, Mrs Bradley? He's not the man he used to be at all." His master voice warned the woman.

Wrath looked up. Mrs Bradley? That sounded awfully familiar. He blinked, trying to regain full consciousness and met her green eyes for an instant. Her shock was easy to see, but more surprisingly, seeing her awakened something within him. Suddenly, he wanted to straighten himself up, and to back in the shadow a little, to hide. Because her eyes seemed too sharp. And as she gasped, seeing the ouroborous tattoo on his unpatched eye –he had stopped wearing a patch since his true identity had been discovered, years ago- he felt ashamed. What was that in her eyes? Why did her pain hurt him, when he didn't even know her?

She turned her back on him, unable to stand his sight. He shifted under his chains, nervously gulping down. What was going on? Who was she? Why was his master looking so gentle suddenly? And what were those feelings in him? He shook his head, angry at himself. Angry at the master. And at the woman. They had no right to confuse him. He'd always did whatever was asked, without ever asking anything in return, because questions were answered with the scary box of bones that always send him to despair.

"You're serious about this, Mrs Bradley? He's dangerous you know."

"How could you treat him like that?" she retorted, pointing her fingers at him. "He may be dangerous, but he's not a beast!"

Wrath was touched by the care of the woman, even if he thought she should have been minding her own business. He had no reason to complain. The bones were far from his sight and that was all that mattered. But then, she looked at him again and there were tears in her eyes and a knot built up in his throat, painfully. He had never felt touched by human tears before. Their fear left him indifferent. He was a killing machine; he worked on pure instinct and didn't give a damn about... But damn, it was hard to breath with her looking at him like that!

"We don't have to explain ourselves. Whenever we had to convince him into a mission, he would start yelling and throwing his swords around. We did that for his own good. Otherwise, he would have been disposed of long ago."

The woman had to make a terrible effort not to bark back at the man. Wrath could see her anger reaching its peek and she furiously dried her tears, keeping her voice down as she asked:

"You'll sell him to me, then, since he's such trouble to you?"

The master sighed.

Wrath remembered there had been fewer killings for him to do lately and that he was surely going to rust along with his chains. So then, would that mean the woman would be his new master?

"If you want him and lay down the money, I'll let you go with him. But that doesn't mean he's going to follow. He's not what he used to be, if he ever truly was what he pretended."

Wrath wasn't sure what they could be meaning, but he wanted to protest somehow. Sure, he didn't remember any piece of his life before being sold by some old man to this gangster. Sure, he surely wasn't anything like what he had been. But he was still someone. Not a thing or... Heck, he wasn't sure anymore. He hadn't much pride left at this state. He knew to fear his master and if the woman was to become the one who pulled his strings, he would have to move accordingly to her orders. He was a good and obedient puppet, even when he didn't want to. The masters always had means to convince him. He hated it. He felt so strong and he wanted to have a will just as strong, but...

"Give me a moment with him, please."

"You're sure, milady?"

She laughed bitterly, a terrible sound to hear.

"He really can't hurt me anymore than he already did in the past, don't you think?"

The small Asian man nodded with a sad expression, showing way more humanity then he ever used to in front of Wrath. His master than glared at him, raising a threatening finger.

"This fair lady should become your new master, Wrath. If one hair is missing from her head, I'll make sure you'll eat those cursed bones you fear so much."

The homunculus tensed at the notion, his chains clinking at the brusque move.

"Leave and don't say another word." The woman asked.

There was authority in her voice, and it surprised Wrath. But not as much as to see his Master was obeying to her. Whoever she was, she had a reputation, because Ling Sho Yuan wouldn't normally respect any crying little old granny. Though, even if she had wrinkles here and there, he couldn't exactly describe her as a granny. She was stunning for her age. And he rarely started thinking of the beauty of any petty human. No use or time for it, and well, not many occasions anyway.

The so called Mrs Bradley turned around to look at him and the pain in her face was back, with a slight glint of unease.

"Hi there." She whispered.

It seemed she had no idea how to address him. And he grunted, his brows frowned at her, his face as harsh as always. He wouldn't help her feeling any more comfortable. His bones were aching and his muscles were killing him from the pain of standing still in those dreadful chains.

"Can you still talk?" she carefully asked, taking a step forward.

"Of course I can, idiot!" he snarled back.

She jumped a little, but a slight smile grew on her lips.

"You're angry, aren't you, Bradley?"

His eyes widened in surprise. Bradley? Who was that?

"How did you call me?"

"By your name, silly. They didn't tell you, did they? You're King Bradley." She replied.

"I'm Wrath," he weakly protested, feeling confused.

And she could tell he was, because she could look at him in both eyes and see the darn ouroborous tattoo. She shivered whenever the white eyeball stared at her. Well, she couldn't stop herself from shivering, but shaking her head from side to side, making up her mind, she decided to stand up his staring.

"I once called you King Bradley, and also Brad, so I will keep on. Just try answering to the name."

He looked away, seemingly annoyed with her attitude, whispering with a shrug of the shoulders: Whatever...

"So then Brad..."

She walked up to him, till she was at arms range. Immediately, he tensed up, fearing she could have some of the hated bones hidden somewhere in her clothing. She wouldn't be coming that close if she hadn't a way to control him. The only thing humans ever wanted to do when they approached him was to dominate him, because he was a monster that needed to be bound and nothing else. But she came closer, her empty hands held up, as an offering of peace. So he kept his swords up, but without moving them, his chains slightly trembling around his limbs as he kept ready to move.

"Please, stay calm. We've known each other for all of our lives."

Even if he didn't remember, she had to be telling lies. Her voice sounded familiar and her face was too. And that wasn't normal at all!

"Gibberish."

If she felt hurt, she didn't show it, she just moved forward, reaching out one of her hands to him. He tensed even more. What did she want? What could she want from him?

"I guess I took the wrong way to present myself. I'm Amelia. I don't mean any harm and I don't want you to live as a slave any longer. As long as you accept to live with me, if it's possible."

_Ain't that the same_, he thought.

Her hand gently brushed his sleeve, and he raised his sword. There was a limit that nobody should break when entering his personal space. And she was breaking it, with her quiet smile and her eyes full of questions. She knew him, there was no denying it; though he hated the fact he couldn't tell how she did.

"Oh please, don't get nervous. Let got off the swords, Brad."

"Wrath," he retorted.

"Please, darling." She asked with a pleading tone.

That was a new name yet again. But this one was ringing a bell in his mind. Heck, she knew him more than she mentioned, if she could call him darling. She was standing right in front of him now and stood up from his chair, even if it meant the chains were hurting more, because the woman stood right in the middle of his opened arms, one of his swords on each of her side. And he knew that with just a twist of the wrist, he could kill her and he could already see the blood running on the floor. He wanted to see blood instead of looking in her eyes and hearing her talking about him as if she knew. It was so scary to feel himself reacting to her, accepting her presence, her familiarity. To like hearing her call him "darling". He was Wrath, he was fury, he was a monster. What was that suddenly? When was the last time when someone had acted human with him since he had been sold?

He couldn't remember, he couldn't remember anything and that was exactly why it hurt so much!

But then, her hands were on his wrists and her voice turned even sweeter:

"Drop the blades, Brad, there's nothing to fear."

And because he didn't want to fear anything, because her touch was so soft and shocking at the same time, or well, maybe just because he was really obedient, he dropped the swords. They clangued on the ground, but he barely heard it. She was coming even closer and that took all of his attention. If something was hidden in her clothes, it wasn't wicked bones, but a key, which she lifted in front of his eyes, keeping one reassuring hand on his right wrist, as if to be sure he was staying calm.

"I'm going to unchain you. I don't want you to move, okay?"

"...Kay." he said through his tied throat.

He sounded like a kid, though he was much older, but her proximity was terrifying! She smelled good and also familiar. And it was infuriating, because he hadn't remembered this scent before now, and now, it seemed clear that it had accompanied him for such a long time. But he wanted to deny it, scared of what it meant, because the smell was all he remembered. Feeling her eyes on him was painful, because he minded her expressions and the judgments he could deduce from them. Why did he, how was it even possible, he couldn't figure it out. Things were simply like that.

As she unchained him, and as the metallic bounds fell to the ground, he felt lighter and straightened his back, which made him realize how small she was. He could have broken one of her limbs with his bare hands. And still, as she moved even closer, she scared him beyond words. But he didn't move from an inch. He was keeping a straight face and enduring the inexplicable fear. And keeping his legs from giving up after standing still in his chains for so many days!

"You really don't remember anything, do you?"

There was hope in her face, as if he could reassure her by saying that he did remember, but he shook his head and her eyes darkened. He hadn't learned to lie. Had forgotten how to with the rest.

She sighed, then looked down. The top of her head was almost brushing his throat, since she took another step towards him.

"I don't know if it's right, but I really want you back home with me, Brad." She whispered, her hand brushing his shirt slightly, as if she wanted to grab on his clothing, to bring him closer, but couldn't give in to the urge...

_Home?_ By the beard of the emperor, the woman meant business and he had forgotten far much more than he'd expected!

"I..."

His throat was so tight, he couldn't talk and anyway, he could barely think of any way to reply. Then, he realized he was thinking too much and that this Amelia was just supposed to become his master and that whatever she could have been for him before, if it was really true –and heck, who told him she wasn't messing around with him just for fun?- well, whatever she or he had been in the past, he was a homunculus now. And that wasn't going to change.

"Wherever you want me to live, I'll live, if you're my master." He said sharply.

It was hard to think he could regard this small human as his master. She didn't look fierce at all. She was so defeated. But then, she did what he'd never expected. Her arms wrapped around him and she leaned onto him, with a desperate sob stuck in her throat.

"I'm not going to be your master Bradley, not now nor ever. I just want you by my side. The old you..."

His first reaction was to back away, which got him almost tripping on the cursed chair he'd spent his days on, but the chair was kicked to the ground and his back hit the wall and Amelia was still holding him close, her arms proving quite stronger than anticipated. Her embrace wasn't entirely disagreeable, but the feeling of it, the feeling of her, so close... This time, he couldn't pretend indifference. His heart was beating so fast and so strongly, she had to be hearing it through his shirt, and she was burying her face in her chest, so there was really no chance she couldn't hear it. Her breathing through his clothing was warm, but he shivered.

What had he missed all this time? Who was this woman who claimed to know him? Why was it her arms around him make him feel so vulnerable, as if he was melting from the inside? Was she invading him, trying to subdue him in some wicked ways? Was this a particular human power he had never faced before? Why was his breathing so fast? Why did his arms want to wrap around her frame? Why did it feel normal to have her so close to him, invading his personal space like that? Why did he had to forget something as important as that? Why couldn't he remember anything?

The thoughts and the misery they brought in his heart left him speechless and his lack of reaction only caused Amelia to weep, which only brought him deeper in his own misery.

"Oh, dear, won't you hold me back, at least?"

_Was that a command_, he wanted to ask, but words couldn't come out. Something within knew they would hurt. And hurting her would be a real sin, which will awaken more regrets, cause suddenly, he could feel those wretched emotions. His mouth was dry. His eyes were itching. His neck ached and Amelia's hands clutched at his shirt, as if he could run away. So he raised his arms and awkwardly hugged her. And as she trembled, remembering what he couldn't remember himself, he wondered why it felt so familiar to hold her.

They stood like this for a while, the so called Mrs Bradley silently weeping on his shirt, and slowly, Wrath felt his strength shattered. His bones were still aching, his waist was numb from the chains and he could barely stay standing. He kept Amelia in his arms, because there was something comforting about it, but his back slowly slide on the wall, as he came to sat/crash down on the floor. That stopped the woman's weeping and she looked up, her hands on his shoulders, her green tormented eyes hurting him better than any cursed and scary bones could.

She was surprised to have followed him down and to be kneeling in front of him suddenly.

"What... what's up?" she asked.

A smile crept up on Bradley's face and for a moment, he was the ghost of the man she remembered, back and alive and recognizing her at last.

"It's my legs. They can't hold up for so long now. I'm not getting any younger, you know..."

She grinned, before to bit her lower lip and finally burst in laughter. Her husband would have said that. And sure, he may have forgotten a lot, but it was still him, even with that awful red eye.

"Oh dear, of course, you must be exhausted."

"Well, I could stand if needed, but since it seemed that this is going to take a while..."

"Don't you make fun of me, King!"

"Wasn't it Brad you were calling me?" he asked.

His hands were still on her waist, as if his body remembered while his mind couldn't and he just couldn't let go.

"Oh, you should get use to have me calling you many names, dear."

"Alright."

Somehow, he liked it how she said "dear". If he was putting every part of this puzzle together correctly, this woman had been his wife, or something resembling it. It was possible, though he barely accepted the notion. But it was nice to feel someone's touch. His blades were never warm. And rediscovering something he once had, even if he didn't remember... He was still scared, but not as much. She smelled good, looked good, she didn't show him bones, she had a nice voice.

"Try saying my name."

He blinked. She seemed to care about this meeting with him a great deal. Human really got worked up on small things. All he wanted was a good shave and a bath. And answers, if possible, of what his past had been. Freedom, oh, that was something he desired too, but he could get by with less than that if necessary. But she seemed ready to free him, just like that, because he once had been someone important for her.

"Amelia?" he tried, glad to hear his voice sounding steady and serious.

Her smile turned upside down and she sighed once more.

"You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

"I think you're the one asking for a lot. You asked me to say your name, and I said it!"

She drew one hand across her face, feeling desperate for an instant.

"Alright. We'll go slowly. But you'll remember me."

And heck, as she said that, looking at him straight in the eyes, he wished he already remembered, even if it was silly in his opinion...

...

Bradley was officialy sold to Amelia and they walked out of the gangsters' house, only to discover that this house was a manor standing in the busty city of Xin. Bradley was used to the darkest streets of the city, he had never seen it during day. It was really different, with all the people everywhere. Fortunately they jumped in a cab –well, a carriage pulled by a horse- and they took refuge in the nearest hostel.

The first right he was given was to take a bath. He almost fell asleep in it, and it was a surprise when he realize he was going to sleep in a bed for the first time of his life! Though of course, if he had been living with Amelia before, he certainly had a bed and a house and all the rest, though it sounded incredible. What had happened to deprive him from all of that? Exhausted beyond words, he snuggled over himself in the bed, not even questioning where Amelia would sleep. He didn't feel any threat coming from her. She was confusing him too much and sleep was welcome. She stayed awake a long moment, trying to get used to the feeling of having him in the same room as her, while knowing it wasn't him.

It was weird to see him without his eye patch. Weird to hear him answering her like a stranger. To see him sleeping all curled up on himself, like a wolf who couldn't trust others, even in his sleep. She wanted him to relax, as he did before, and she wanted to see him smile. And more then all, she wanted to be able to look at him without feeling this whole mix of feelings that torn her heart apart. When she looked at him, she was seeing the old him, and still, she couldn't see any recognition in his eyes. Couldn't quite accept the ouroborous eye looking at her. Now, it was easier to stand it. But still... She covered her face, breathing hard. She was getting through this. The way he'd held her earlier, in his arms, even if he could barely stand up. It was still him. Maybe his body remembered? It wasn't enough, but she would get by for now, she had to.

After some hesitation, she decided to join him on the bed. She turned her back on him after changing clothes, and just lied down, back to back with her man. He didn't move from an inch. That was already something. She sighed, her throat hurting as she refrained herself from crying. How she needed him, the real him! Or the false him? Whoever that was, she needed him.

"Oh Brad, I must be going crazy."

He groaned in his sleep, before to roll on his back, his side merely brushing her own back. So she turned around, and looked at him. And she smiled, because that was him, entirely, even if he was unconscious. He was back. Life could maybe return to what it used to be. Only with that in mind could she fall asleep.

In the morning, Wrath was the first to wake up. The first thing he realized what there someone in his bed. Her face was so close to his that he almost jumped to his feet from the shock. But he was a well trained soldier and wouldn't permit his enemy to wake up by moving suddenly. And as he slowly accepted that they were supposed to be equal – he wasn't a slave and she wasn't his master, but he belonged to her and had to answer the name she called him-, well, he was curious about all that it implied.

If he wasn't her slave, if they shared the same bed, that totally changed his status inlife. As a man and a homunculus, he was stronger and better than her. He wasn't as emotional and he could be rational. Could he become her master? He wasn't sure he understood equality. How could they be equal when they were so different?

He stared at her, rolling on his side to get a better view. Her hair was undone and ran in nice curls across her shoulders. She looked small, so very small, it was almost scary to think about holding or touching her. But he wanted to touch her, to see if it could trigger any memory of his past, that he'd shared with her, somehow. He reached out one hand, but froze. What was he doing? Even if she wanted to bring him back in this life, acting as a human wasn't in him. He was a beast and a killing machine. But her presence was soothing him, to the point where he could almost forget all the killing that filled his past.

He was an old man, and all he had received were orders and painful slavery, but there was more to his life than the last few years. What had happened before the First Crisis had still happened, even if he couldn't remember it! So the woman, Amelia, what was she to him? Was she his?

He liked the idea, even if it was a pity that he accepted chaining himself to human people.

"The situation is so strange." He whispered, before to break the space between them.

He gently stroke her naked arm, following its shape from her shoulder to the tip of her fingers. He knew what was muscle and could name every bone under the skin, but more than that, he was surprised by the softness and smoothness of her skin. Her sleeveless nightgown had a gaping cleavage, and her chest was gently raising and falling down. It was a peaceful picture. He wanted to get closer to it. To taste her smell on his tongue. And it was really strange to feel such appeal for her. She lights something inside of me. Even when she sleep.

He merely touched her hair. Also soft. All he ever knew were the edgey chains and the hard chair he sat on. She was all curves and warmth. She felt fragile, but that made her all the more intriguing and exciting. He should mind his strength, so he wouldn't hurt her. It was weird to think like that, since he was a monster, but he owed her his freedom from the chains and bones. So he could at least be nice to her, couldn't he?

"What are you doing, Bradley?" she suddenly asked with a sleepy voice.

He hadn't noticed she was waking up...

"Huh...nothing..." he lied, rolling on his back to stare at the ceiling.

It felt wrong to be so drawn to her when he didn't know a thing about their past.

"Are you blushing, Brad?"

"No. I... It's weird... You're my new master and..."

"I said we were the same. We're equals and there's no..."

His laugh, as warm and frank as before, interrupted her. She looked at him, not sure if had to smile or to scowl.

"We can't be equal, Amelia. You're human and I'm a homunculus."

She turned so pale, he realized that was a mistake, but he wouldn't take it back, even if he could. This was ho things were. He was just being rational.

"You know, you were a human before to become a homunculus," she observed, crossing her arm under her chest.

Her nightgown was really light, he could guess how she'd look without it. And her words were touching him deep. It was a little too much, so he kept looking at the ceiling, wondering if he could get up and walk away on her. But he couldn't. He wanted to know more. Heck, that was him they were talking about!

"So what if I was a man at the start? What does that make me now, huh?"

She sighed deeply.

"I'd like to know myself."

Her answer disappointed him. She was the one who knew and remember. She held all the answers to his past. He turned back on his side, frowning at her. And she returned the frown, looking rather mad.

"Don't look at me like that, with that awful eye!"

Bradley was rarely aware of his ouroborous tattooed eye, but her reaction reminded him of it. His throat felt tight as she yelled. It was wrong to have this eye suddenly, it had to be, because there was nothing familiar about her reaction.

"It's not my fault if..."

She got up and he sat up, speechless at the very idea he was starting to apologize for being what he was. Hadn't she bought him knowing what she had paid for? Rummaging through her things, she raised a small object in the air, with black strap of fabric.

"Why don't you wear that eye patch, huh?"

She threw it at him and he hesitated before to ask:

"Is it an order or a suggestion?"

She shook her head, biting her lower lip.

"Of course, it's not an order. Just try it on." She was almost pleading, but nevertheless, it was an order, he could tell so much.

He shrugged his shoulders, but complied, though reluctantly. She held her breath, unsure if she had asked the right thing. As soon as his eye was covered, he felt angry and threw the eye patch to the floor, jumping to his feet to confront her:

"This is stupid! I got the ultimate eye, I can spot any movement, protect you from anything, get myself through a train's derailing without a scratch, just thanks to it and you me to hide... to half blind myself? What's logic about that?"

"You wore that blasted patch for your whole life, pretending you had been wounded! What was logic about that? You never dare to look at me with those two eyes before, you were always..."

All the anger was gone from his face as she walked up to him, a mix of pain and resentment on her face. She had her fists raised and she fell on him, hammering his chest with her fists, repeating over and over:

"Always... always... lying... faking always... never assuming!... fooling me... always.. been such... a fool..."

He let her hit him at first, too shocked to react. Her words were hurting like bullets and he could barely feel her fists. She was crying once again.

She wasn't lying. She never lied. She wanted me with her, but not every part of me. It seems I wasn't a homunculus for her, but that's what I am. That's what I was. But what were we?

He stopped her next punch, catching both of her wrists and held her arms firmly, which only seem to break her down. He looked away from her face and spotted a ring on her left hand. Was it the ring finger? His breath was caught in his throat an instant.

"Amelia Bradley, huh? And I was King Bradley?"

She nodded, hating him for saying he was.

"Were we... Are we... married?"

This was the weirdest question he'd ever asked. And she nodded again, but she was shaking so much, the sight was too much to bear. He hugged her close, almost crushing her in his arms. There were pictures running in his head, this was too many answers at once... Too much to imagine.

_What have I done all my life?_ He wondered.

He wasn't sure if he could ask her any more questions over the past. If they were husband and wife, that meant something. At least, _it had meant_ something. Had he loved her when he was King Bradley? Could he love her now? Why was he even wondering about it, while he wasn't suppose to suffer from any stupid little human sentimentality? But when he used to stop and think back on his chair and in his chains, he would start feeling all kind of things. His articulations still ached at the memory. But he could understand now that it wasn't only a physical discomfort. He had been missing so much... Of himself, of his past.

"Just what do you want from me, woman?"

"I don't know anymore... I don't know, I just want you to stay with me."

_I can do that_, he thought. _I can, but I doubt she'll survive me at this rate..._

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

In this chapter, we'll have the appearance of little Selim! Bradley better be prepared for the confrontation! By the way, I want to thank everyone who reviewed first chapter. It really help me write and I'm glad you liked the story so far. ^^

Fallen memories – Part II

As she cried, sitting on his lap, Bradley felt his joints stirring with protest. Not moving for so long was hard. He felt angry at himself. Usually, it would take him much longer to feel pain. But Amelia had a way to reach him faster than all the rest. He got her to lie down next to him, keeping down all the words and questions growing in his mind. She wanted him by her side. Not all of him. Not the homunculus side of him. And that hurt. Because he felt so much more homunculus than human.

"You cry too much." He whispered after sometimes. "You're going to exhaust yourself."

She shook her head and tried to dry off her tears. It was so hard to face him acting like that, just as his old self but still, as a stranger at the same time. He held her mechanically, still clumsily trying to get used to have someone that close to himself.

"Why do you care?" she asked, her voice frail, but still full of resentment.

"You're the one I'm depending on, now."

He didn't say that he disliked the situation. He did, but he had been dependant to human for as long as he could remember. They had tried to break him and had been his masters for so many years. Even when he thought he remembered something from the past, he couldn't say he had been free for even one day.

"Oh Brad..."

She snuggled closer to him, and he felt his body reacting to her. Her breathing on his chest was so warm. Her now soft weeping was torture. He wanted to hold her face in his hands, he wanted... God, he wanted so many things he'd never want before, it hurt. He almost wanted to push her away to get a chance to regain all the control he still had over himself. His arms were feeling numb after holding her for so long. But he couldn't let go.

She had been his wife. And somehow, he still wanted her to be his, in every possible ways. He knew that demanding anything now would be wrong. He was slightly mad for it. Having her so close and knowing she was so far at the same was infuriating. Every part of this new situation was driving him mad. But after all, he was Wrath.

He'd almost wanted her to call him by this name, just to know it could be said on a gentle tone. But wouldn't it be wrong to hear her say: "Oh Wrath..."

But still, it was so close to that Brad nickname.

Bradley didn't know for how long they remain as they were, unmoving, just waiting for her to calm down. At some point, he realized she had fallen asleep. And since the bed sheets and pillows were quite comfortable, he decided that sleeping in wouldn't be that bad. Little did he know that nightmares would follow his decision.

...

"You're the twelfth. Will you withstand my wrath?"

A blond, ominous man was standing over his operation table. He couldn't see his eyes. He couldn't see much. Wrath fought the leather's bands tying him to the table. He hated the impression of being restrained and caged. He wanted to run away. He had no idea what he was doing in this room anymore. Had he willingly lied down on this operation table?

What were all those corpses doing there, in the next room? He knew those guys. He was the twelfth... So, was he also going to die? A word rung in his head, over and over again. Fuhrer, Fuhrer, Fuhrer. He should be able to become Fuhrer if he lived through that. But what were they planning to do to him? What was a Fuhrer already?

_And moreover, what am I?_

He felt the philosopher stone being injected under his skin. How it burned his blood... How it burned and destroyed and torn apart. He yelled until his lungs were pierced and as soon as they were reconstructed and that the blood in his mouth was spitted out, he yelled again. The pain was tremendous. It was beyond anything anyone had ever felt. And worst than anything else, it last for hours. Destroying and repairing. He felt his brain rotting and redeveloping itself. He could barely tell which part of his body could move and which part was broken. The stench of his own blood filled the room. He couldn't even wonder over any of the worries he had as he had walked in the room and seen the corpses of his comrades.

Wrath wanted to die right away. And he could tell somehow, that at this point, he wasn't Wrath or Bradley. All he knew was that he had to fight. And he fought to the bitter end. His right eye blew up at some point and as he flinched and twisted and yelped in pain, still, he was bound to the table, tied like a madman. Was it to protect himself or to protect the scientist around him? He couldn't tell. Hadn't time to wonder. Hadn't wits to even make one whole sentence in his head. Red sparks ran around his body. His blood was like bolts of thunder running wild, tearing up his skin. Countless souls were pulling on his consciousness.

He felt his spirit trembling and screaming inside his skull. He was nothing but pain. He was on the verge of agony. But his untamed spirit roared, back to its most basic instincts. The numerous unknown souls lashed at him, driving him mad with their yells. And he lashed back, still fighting the stone, fighting to remain sane and remain himself.

He had to win this. He couldn't let things end just like that. And somehow, Wrath knew things were just beginning. Was this a memory? It felt far too wicked to come out of his own mind. So it had to be real. And it kinda fitted with Amelia's story.

Amelia? How could he think about her now? He felt so young, so full of life, did he even know her at that time?

He writhed in pain, as the souls had one last surge of strength. The leather straps were still hurting his sides, almost biting him. He wanted to break free from the pain and suddenly...

... he woke up!

There was still something bounding him from moving and he slightly panicked at first. He was just on the verge of dying and...!

As he jerked up on the bed, he woke Amelia, who looked surprised at first. He tried to understand where he was and brought one hand to his face, to cover his tattooed eye. It burned. And to his own consternation, he was shaking from head to toes.

"It was a nightmare, right?" she asked him.

He looked away, ashamed. Where were all those fears coming from? Why couldn't he stop to shake? He was a homunculus, how could he fear a simple nightmare?

He felt the hand of his wife on his shoulder and tensed for a few seconds.

"It was the nightmare with the scientists dressed in black, when you were tied to that operation table?" she whispered.

It was only half a question.

"You knew about that?"

She smiled to him. The room was dark, with the curtains closed and all. He felt vulnerable in front of her. But he could see no judgment in her eyes. No mockery on her wrinkled face. His heart which was still trembling in his chest steadied back to a normal rhythm, but his shoulders kept on shaking.

"You told me long ago about it Brad. You always had nightmares. Over the past. And the war..."

"Oh..."

She wrapped one arm around his shoulders and gently forced him to lie back on his pillows. She could hardly tell it wasn't really him right now. This was the Bradley only she knew.

"There's nothing shameful about being afraid you know."

"I'm not...!" he bit his lips, refusing to lie about it. She was anything but dumb. He looked down, his right eye still aching from a ghost pain. "Dammit, woman, do you have x-rays behind your eyes or something?"

She giggled at that. Then, she softly stroked his face with the tips of her fingers, before to cover his tattooed eye with one hand. The touch of her skin soothed the pain and he sighed with relief.

"What are you, Amelia?" he asked her.

How could he have forgotten someone that made him feel so better? How could he...?

She ignored his question, replying with a truth that burned him to the bones.

"They almost broke you down, back in those days..."

He shivered. Somehow, this nightmare was almost as scary as the forsaken bones the gangsters used to control him. He wanted to close himself from the outside world, but showing his fear would be showing flaws. And he was still too proud for that. But Amelia didn't care about flaws and weaknesses. She hugged him, guiding his head to rest on her chest, close to the hollow of her neck.

"Live the fear now. Let it out. It won't come back as fast as it would if you just try to hide it."

He slowly relaxed in that new kind of embrace. It didn't take long for the shaking to stop. He knew Amelia would be no protection against any of those scientists or even the ominous blond man. He knew she was frail and weak, but her warmth and loving care were so good to taste. He needed that. And more, so more of it. He snuggled to her, feeling her soft breasts through her nightgown. Her skin was paradise and she laughed as his beard tickled her neck. He wanted to touch her, to hold her, to lose himself in all her warmth.

"Are we really married?" he asked her, once he felt completely relaxed and all he could wonder over was : how the heck had he forgotten something like that?

"We never divorced," she retorted. Her throat tied in a knot.

Wrong question, of course.

"I didn't mean... One day ago, I was a rat in a cage and now..." he paused for a long time, not wanting to let her know how much he appreciated the situation. "How long have we been together? Did we have a house? Can a homunculus have a family with a human? What more surprise are you keeping from me?"

She could hear his strong voice resonating through her ribcage. As he used to talk to her after love, and when she would do nightmare. Or when he would cry... Suddenly, he was too close, because that wasn't her Bradley anymore. She pushed him back, but he insisted.

"Why don't you tell me?"

"Why don't you try and remember? You remember being injected with that dreadful stone, you remember very well that you're a homunculus, so why don't you do some effort! I could not have come to get you back, you know. If I hadn't, you wouldn't even care about me!"

"And it was my fault that I forgot?"

She shook her head and tried to get up, but he grabbed her shoulders firmly.

"Maybe I lied in the past, but I don't remember it, I swear. So be angry with me, but don't... Don't keep on playing with me like that. Getting all nice because I remind you of who I was and running away as soon as you recall I'm not..."

He stopped there, realizing he made no sense.

"Where do I stand here? What are my rights, what can I say? We're equal, but you get mad whenever I ask questions. Don't I have a right to know? You're my wife, alright. If I was simply human and suffered amnesia, you'd try and help me remember, wouldn't you? Why is it different, then?"

She shrugged his hands off and rolled on her back to stare at the ceiling, her arms tightly crossed over her chest.

"You said it yourself. We're different."

He blinked. Using his very own words against him, huh? By the beard of the emperor, that woman stirred him even when she was driving him mad! If he listened to himself, he would have her turning around and kissed her right there. He wanted to be held close once again. He hardly gulped down. All those desires he never had before, how he wished he could stop them from bursting in his head. But they were all coming, one after the other. It felt like a storm in his heart.

"Alright then, Mrs Bradley. From now on, you're to call me Wrath."

She looked upset and was about to say something against it, but he cut her off.

"And I don't want to hear you say a thing like King or Bradley or Brad. Since I don't remember it myself, you'll name me as I will it."

"You have no right to order me...!"

"I've taken your orders so far, Mrs Bradley. You could be nice enough to obey mine as well."

He sounded so serious, it was scary. She bit her lips, wondering if she had made a mistake to have him in the same room than her. She didn't want to doubt him. But he was a homunculus. He almost sounded proud of it. And it was hard to keep it in mind all the time, even with that eye looking at her.

"Brad..."

"Wrath! As long as I can't remember, it's Wrath, alright!"

"How do you want to remember if...!"

"You don't want to help me, so don't!" He retorted.

He jumped out of the bed to pace around the room, clearly mad. She sat up, gathering the covers around her, to hide from him. He saw it and seemed even madder. And she remembered he'd rarely ever acted like that. Only when he had had terrible news for her. And she remembered, even if he didn't. That time when he told her he would never be able to give her a child. He had been so mad at himself. And she had tried so hard not to cry. And she realized, it was almost the same situation now. He wasn't mad at her. He wanted to punish himself, by denying his human name, since she denied him all the memories they had shared. But how could she make it that easy for him, when he could be faking just to get her forgiveness? And how she wanted to forgive right away for the lies, but it was just too much to ask. She wouldn't let it go unpunished. So she watched him pace back and forth, shivering. She felt hungry and angry at the same time.

"Why don't you try it one time, huh?" he asked bitterly.

"I won't call you Wrath in front of our son." She replied.

That caught him unprepared. He stared at her, his mouth gaping open for a second. For one instant, she felt the glorious burn of revenge in her heart as she saw pain on his face and shock and consternation. Yes, that was all she felt as she learned the truth about her husband.

Bradley didn't feel like ordering anyone around. He walked up to the bed and kneeled on the mattress, feeling confused.

"But I can't... A human and a homunculus? You... we... a son?"

He sounded like the way he had reacted at first, when she had suggested they tried having kids for the first time. Except from the "a human and a homunculus" question... She sighed.

"We have a son, WRATH."

He looked down as she emphasized his "name".

"Forget about that order. Where is he? How old...? Why...?"

She knew he was trying not to care. Fighting the feelings, as he often did even when he was around her. She simply smiled at him.

"We're not that different, you know."

He scolded at that, perfectly aware that she was right... He didn't want her to be different from him. But he was angry at himself for falling for her so fast. How could he make it that easy for her? How could he be so nice? Had it always been in him? He felt an urge for defiance. She was messing around with him, pulling every strings, controlling the situation. And if his name really was King Bradley, he had a right to have a little control too. So he walked up to her, still kneeling on the bed, and with a devious smirk on his pale face, he slowly got her to lie back down.

"I know just how different we are, Amelia, and just how we could still fit together, don't think forgetting the past made me that naive."

His hands roamed over her body as he lied over her entirely, and he smelled her from up close, delighted by her warmth. He was also glad to feel her tensing up to their proximity, but not pushing him away either. So he had some kind of power over her. That was reassuring. And how he wanted to use this power she gave him.

"Brad, don't..."

"I won't do anything." He cut her off, even if it really sounded the other way around. "It's just... If we were... we are married, so I can guess we were lovers. But I know I can't..."

Memories were hitting in flashes, violent picture under his eyes and his hands were almost clawing at her body to keep him in the real world. His tattooed eye was aching again. He could see her, years younger than now. He also saw the hated scientist from his earlier nightmare. Walking around him, running tests, shaking their heads. He felt his insides twisting at the memory of their unfriendly voice. At the words that only meant he was fake.

_As a homunculus, you may never become a father. You're infertile._

This was from the past, a piece of flaw, or maybe a benediction for humanity. Manmade humans couldn't spawn themselves. His seed was fruitless. He couldn't care less about that. But she made him care. Or maybe a part of him cared, because he was different to other men and lower than them in that way. It was maybe the only side of him lower, but it was already too much. Because the fact he had been human before raised the question, could he have been infertile from the start, or was it the transmutation imposed on him? Having kids meant burdening one's self. But it wasn't only that.

I'm a fake in every way. And my rights were also fakes.

"I can't... A homunculus cannot have children, you do know that, don't you?"

She finally understood why she saw pain under his anger. It was clear now as to why his arms were so tightly wrapped around her, and why he needed to touch her, everywhere. He could accept that they were a couple. He really seemed to like the idea in fact. He could accept that she ordered him around and that he depended on her. But that she would say they had a son, when he couldn't...

"I always was loyal to you, Brad. We adopted him."

"Oh."

He wasn't sure if that was really what he was getting at. She was just confusing him. He leaned on her, with his head on her chest. She huffed and complained:

"You're heavy."

"I'm old and wasted." He retorted angrily, before to shift till only his upper body was resting on her. "Tell me more about that kid."

She sighed, and he thought he liked hearing the sound of her breathing through her ribcage. It felt so peaceful. It was calming down his wrath.

"He's about six years old. He actually looks a bit like you. Dark hair. Dark eyes."

"You know that doesn't make sense."

He felt her raise herself under his weight and somehow, he knew she was smiling. She started toying with his hair.

"You had parents once, before that those scientists took you in to do god knows what."

He held back a shiver. How come she could have him feeling this vulnerable and this calm at the same time? There was so much bitterness and tenderness in her words. She loved him. She also hated him. And somehow, he was able to feel it all at the same time. He wasn't sure if he owed any of the feelings. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. The only thing he knew was that he couldn't long for anything but her. He would have regarded it as a stupid thought only a few hours before. But did he care for the past with the chains? She had been there before those. She was still there now that the chains were gone. And for once, Bradley could wish for eternity.

"Amelia..."

She closed her eyes as he brushed his face to her chest. One of his arms was wrapped around her. His other hand was gently brushing the side of her arm, and the side of her body. Lingering to her breast. The touch was soft, like birds wings brushing against her skin. Even if his hands weren't soft at all, she shivered under his caresses. He was doing it half consciously, not meaning to awake her entirely. She could tell he needed her. Needed to remember all of her. And how she craved to have him entirely to her. But it felt as if it was the first time he touched her. Because that wasn't him. So she forced herself to hide her reactions to his little game.

"Why aren't you talking anymore?" he asked.

His voice sounded rough compared to the dance of his fingers, following an imaginary trail down her waist.

She blinked, trying to remember what she was talking about.

"Selim..." she started.

The caresses stopped and he tensed instantly, as if the name triggered a terrible memory in his mind. And it did. He curled around her, his breathing accelerating.

Under his eyelids, he could see a kid, or well, something resembling a kid. It was surrounded by shadows with eyes and fangs and creepy smiles. Hands like tentacles were waving, darker than the darkness itself. The kid had purple red eyes, like poison and blood. He was talking to him. Giving him orders. The monstrous child was giving him orders!

He gasped, clutching to the woman, looking at the shadows as if they could smile and laugh at him suddenly. How could he forget about HIM?

"Pride. His name's Pride."

Since she knew that he was a homunculus, was there really a need to pretend Pride wasn't a monster too? If something was to be said, Pride was far bigger the monstrosity. And as the memories ran and flashed, burning his brain, chilling him to the bones, he had to wonder. How was it he could remember everything related to homunculus, but nothing about Amelia? He knew she had been with him in the past for far longer than Pride. But... Had he really forced her to live under the same room as that demon?

He remembered talking with his elder brother about it.

"_You'll adopt me in a few weeks now. Think you're ready to share your little wife with me, Wrath?"_

He couldn't remember his answer to that question. All he remembered were Pride's eyes. And hell knew, that devil had thousand of eyes. Just remembering it, Wrath had to wonder how he ever got used to his real looks. How he'd been able to pretend he liked the kid as a son, how he'd get the nerve to pat him on the head and to put him on his shoulder, when he knew that behind the skin, in the very shadow of the child...

"Bradley, you're hurting me!" Amelia warned him.

He eased his grasp on her, raising himself on the bed, to look at her in the eyes.

"You know about Pride, right? He's dangerous, he's got all those tentacles and...!"

Had she been alone with that thing? As long as he had been living with them, Bradley knew Pride would stay quiet and wouldn't try anything funny on his fake mother. But as he remembered the kid, he remembered the constant fear he had about him.

"Don't! Don't start telling me what kind of monster he could have been before, WRATH!"

She punched him, tears gathering in her eyes once again.

"It was your idea to adopt him, remember? He's not a homunculus, not anymore, he's my little boy, my Selim! And you... how can you try to warn me now, after deciding all by yourself that you could let me care for him just to keep up your pretences, for your messed up plan!" she angrily snapped at him. She tried to push him away, to escape from his hug, but he used his strength against her.

He wasn't going to let her win every fight. His heart was beating fast, so very fast. He wished he could remember everything, because he couldn't believe he had been sane and made the decision to have her living under the same roof as Pride. He had seen Pride killing people. He knew he could eat anyone to absorb their power. The shadowy first homunculus had centuries of experience. His child boy was but another vessel. He was certainly empty inside. And to think that thing had been with her.

"Did you leave him alone back home to come here looking for me? He must be plotting something in our back. He always liked to crept in the shadows, that's just..."

"Shut up! Don't you dare to say that! He's not a monster. He's just a kid. My kid! My son and all that I have left."

Bradley wanted to shake her up, to talk some sense into her, but after all, she had ran back to him and even shared bed with him, while perfectly knowing that he was a monster himself.

"It was your idea, Wrath, your idea to adopt him, your pretending that we were a family! If he was really dangerous for me, why did you bring him to our home, huh? How could you lie about our own son! How could you..."

Unable to stand one more words, he shut her off by the only way he could think off. With his lips on hers. He couldn't remember kissing her, but he instinctively knew what to do. Just as he had relearn to hold her. And despite all her anger towards him, Amelia wasn't able to push him away. She had missed him. Now that he was back, almost entirely back, she could tell just how she had missed him. The butterfly kiss turned to a rose and then to burning passion. Bradley's hands were holding her, grabbing her, as if she could vanish from his grasp. It hurt, but her fingernails were digging in his back as payback. He kissed her till she moaned. How powerful that made him felt.

As they parted for air, he could tell she was still furious. But he was feeling a little less confused. Now that he'd tasted her, he could tell how he could be ready to risk her around Pride if that meant he could keep her.

_Still, this is bad. I fell right into her trap, _he thought to himself.

She stared at him, blinking back her tears, breathless. He felt his back asking for respite as she was whimpering for more. And how it stirred him, despite the fact he wanted to stay in control of himself.

_Have mercy, darn woman_, he thought.

She answered his prayers. She pushed him away, not too gently, getting up, not even minding that fact her nightgown was a mess. The skirt had rolled up and he could see her tights. The skin wasn't entirely smooth, she wasn't in her prime twenties, but bare skin was enough for him. He looked to the ceiling. What was going on with him?

"It's about enough sleeping in, we're going to miss our train." She growled.

"But..."

"You're not my Bradley, and I won't let you have your way with me just because you look like him!"

He frowned as she walked up to the bathroom. She had kissed him back, and held him down so that he would stay close to her. Had he misinterpret her reaction?

"I'll never be my old self! I never was that man!" he retorted angrily.

She let the door of the bathroom bang shut and he slightly jumped in the bed. What did she want? To have him by her side? Right... But she wanted a fantasy that never really existed, since he had been lying in the past. What was he supposed to do? Lying now would only be worse. And still, he was doing his best, being nice and all. He wanted to be by her side, for the emperor's sake, how could she ask more? It was already a lot from him after all that he'd been through. Why could she comfort it when she felt like it and couldn't he kiss her if he wanted?

He surely didn't care about a train. His stomach growled after some time, reminding him he had barely eaten his supper yesterday night. He waited for a moment, staring at the ceiling angrily. His stomach insisted and Amelia showed no intention of coming back in the room.

After fifteen minutes of waiting, he decided that if she wasn't willing to answer to his every desire, she could at least fill his empty belly with food.

He felt dumb for depending on her about that, but she was his master after all. He had been pretty dumb to think she would give him all the rights he thought he had.

"I'm hungry!" he yelled throughout the room, giving up on what was left of his pride.

"Then call some room service!" she responded from the bathroom.

"Call what?"

And thus begin their trip back to Amestris, where they would rejoin with Selim, or well, Pride as Bradley kept on referring to him.

...

Amelia had vowed to herself that she wouldn't let Wrath seducing her a second time and was keeping her distance, even if she missed his arms. Whenever he was remembering something from the past, she wondered if he was just pretending to get her to cooperate with him or if he was telling the truth. He didn't argue anymore on which name she should call him. Whenever she called him Wrath, it was because she was angry. There was no more dear and darling, except when she was tired. He supposed she was taking a few steps back because he had been too rash.

They spent half a week in a train, eating together and sleeping in different bed. She discovered that he had lose his table's manner and tried to educate him about that, even if he wasn't too cooperative. He still had nightmares, about either Pride, the other homunculi or the experiences made on him when he was still human and sometimes, she would sit on the edge of his bed to shake him awake, when she saw him tossing and turning, mumbling and sweating his sleep for too long. Every night, he woke up to her face and he often try to get her to lie down with him. But she refused him the comfort. She recognized his pain, but he was talking about strangers and often looked at her with a stranger's eyes.

She knew they were both rediscovering each other, but she'd prefer that it was already over. What she wanted was to feel recognized when she saw her reflection in his eyes. And she still had trouble to face that tattooed eye.

"Are we going to play chess, again?" he asked on the fourth morning.

Whenever she didn't read one of her book, she would suggest a game of card or of chess. He sucked at card, but he was getting better at chess. He had to relearn the rules from scraps, holding no memory of it. And even if he was becoming better, she was often winning. After all, Amelia had gotten a lot of practice, playing with Mustang when he would come to visit. At first, Bradley had found it boring that she could wonder over her next step in the game for minutes and what looked like hours. His mind would often stray from the game and he would find himself staring at her, or staring at her reflection in their wagon's window.

He wanted to run his hand through her hair. He wanted her to be angry at him instead of ignoring him as much as she could. How could she have taken him out of his prison just to play chess with him? He had won one game out of seven. Hard to believe he ever had been a Fuhrer.

If he looked at himself in the mirror, he could tell a lot had changed. There were no more blood vessels in the white of his eyes thanks to all his recent sleep –despite the nightmares- and his beard had been trimmed, leaving him with only a moustache, which Amelia seemed to love a great deal.

"We won't have enough time. We should be home for lunch," she replied casually.

Home, he thought. He'd never say it out loud, but he was curious to see it.

...

The mansion he faced a few hours later wasn't the one he remembered, but it was still tremendously huge!

"Is that really a house? It's half as big as the emperor castle!"

"Come on, Brad... It's been a long trip and I'm really worn out."

"You sure Pride haven't wrecked the place while you were gone?"

"It's Selim, try to keep it in mind, King."

She called him King when she was angry too. He nodded, pretending to ignore her indifference towards him. He didn't say another way of reacting to it. When he was vindictive, she only kept silent. If he asked politely for attention, she would look to the ceiling. If he suggested a chess game, he would be in for hours of silence and contemplating chess pieces. And if she decided to bury her face in some book, all hope would be lost to get even a smile from her.

He couldn't believe he was so low as to want any of her attention. But he was slowly starting to regain his memory. He remembered Father and the army, mostly. But he also remembered something, or well, someone, who had helped him go through all the greatest challenges. And it was her. Now she was the challenge. And he was aiming to win.

As they entered the house, though, Bradley discovered he had a rival in this challenge.

A little boy came running, yelling:

"Mommy, mommy, you're finally back!"

The boy had dark hair and dark eyes. He had a strange circle in the middle of his head. He slightly looked like Pride, but something was gone from him. He looked younger than Pride. And since Pride's human body was nothing but a container for his true form, he couldn't age and even less regress in age.

"Oh, sweetheart, mom is so glad to see you."

Amelia bent down to bring the child in a hug and she even raised him in her arms. Bradley jealously observed how the kid snuggled to her, tightly embraced by her frail arms. Selim looked up over his mother shoulders and met Wrath's glare. Instead of cowering in fear, the boy glared back, wrapping his little arms around his mother's neck.

"Who's that, mama?" Selim asked.

Amelia smiled and shook her head. She hadn't been sure if Selim was ready to meet with Bradley, or well, if Bradley was ready to meet with his adopted son. It was easy to guess just by looking at her husband that he still doubted that Selim could be something else than that "Pride".

"He's your father." She answered simply.

Selim frowned, confused.

"But I already told you I don't need a daddy mom. I got uncle Mustang, and uncle Havoc and ol' Grumman."

The names woke something deep in Bradley. Especially the Mustang's mention. He knew that man. What was he doing around his house? And moreover, what was he doing around his wife when she was bound to be alone and in grief? Bradley remembered a dashing young man fitting the Mustang's name. A man who liked to charm and seduce women, regardless of age. And he had heard weird sayings before, of how experienced women were far more interesting than younger ones. Oh, he felt his anger rise at the idea he could have any competition. Since Amelia had idealized him as a human man, he couldn't compete with real humans. And there was no chance another homunculus shows up with interests in her.

"Hush, hush, I know you have lots of friends, Selim. But this man is really important to me."

Selim wasn't convinced by that. He could tell his mom wasn't telling the entire truth. Bradley still envied the little guy just to have a right to stay that close to his Amelia. He knew the woman wanted him to get along with the kid, but he couldn't, not with all the memories he had from Pride, his elder brother.

Funny to think of a kid as his elder, but he knew better than to care about looks. As Amelia put Selim back down and both guys found them facing each other for the first time, the moment turned pretty awkward. Selim was mostly unsure of what to think of this tall man. He looked like the guy one the photograph, but he could tell something was wrong about this man. A smell, or... He wasn't sure how to put it, but something deep deep down in his child's heart was telling him not to stare at those creepy eyes for too long.

"What's up with that red eye you got, sir?" he bluntly asked.

Amelia was stricken at this moment that if Bradley had just lost his memories from the past, maybe was it the same for her adopted son. Would meeting his old fake father would drive him back into being the homunculus he once was? And how could that be? She had done all she could to raise the child properly. She taught him what was right and wrong and more than all, she taught him love.

"Oh, it's a scary story, boy." Wrath retorted.

He smiled as Selim took a step back, his face whitening, but his smile turned upside down as he was met by Amelia's disapproving stare. He had forgotten he was supposed to act nice with the kid, since she considered Pride as a mere child and moreover as her son.

Their son. If he forgot that it was Pride, he could almost feel an unbearable pressure on his shoulders. But he wouldn't forget. Not anymore.

"I had this eye patch on the pictures, remember?" he asked, lowering his voice and forcing on a peaceful smile.

The boy nodded.

"My eye had been hurt during a war, and I went to get it fixed. It looks weird, but I can see again." He quickly made up his story.

Selim seemed half convinced by it and suggested to show his mom the latest gift his uncle Mustang had brought for him.

"Go first, sweetheart, I'll follow shortly. I just... have to get your father settled back in our home, alright?"

Selim smiled and ran away. As Amelia turned to look at her "husband", she saw him frowning, lost in thought. Pride had never been such a good actor before, or did he remember it wrong?

"There was no need to lie to him." She said, clearly angry.

"Well, am I supposed to explain that I'm a homunculus to that brat?"

"Take that back, Bradley!"

"He's just pretending, I know he is!" he protested.

She slapped him, unable to hold back her anger any longer.

"Look at yourself before to talk! The three of us will be living all together now, so I don't want you to scare Selim or to be hard with him. It's not because you were in my life before that you have more rights than him. It's the other way around, since he was there for me when you weren't!"

"Oh yeah? It's easy if he was just a baby at that time! I was sent to war and why did you do to stop it, huh?"

"Don't yell, please, I don't want to fret him." She asked, fighting back the tears that were coming back.

It was the first time they were arguing since the morning in the hotel room. And Bradley was mad at her for crying and making him look like the bad guy once again. What was he supposed to do to please her?

"Alright then, but don't tell me he's an angel because he was there when I wasn't. I don't even remember what brought me to that war. He was a baby and he needed to be look after when you were in no shape to look after someone, not even yourself. And I'm the bad guy?"

"I didn't say that, Brad. It's hard for all of us; won't you try to understand me a little?"

"I've tried nothing else but that!"

"You're yelling again!"

"Mommy, aren't you coming? Mooooom?"

"I'm coming sweetheart!" she retorted.

"And how come he's your sweetheart, huh?"

"Oh, so I get it now. You're jealous." She understood out loud.

Her tears were dried and a light smirk was on her lips. Discovered, he tried to defend himself.

"Me, jealous? From a little kid? You're crazy!"

He could have slapped himself. Of course, he was jealous. He felt as if he was being tested and even if she went all the way out to Xin to get him, it didn't mean she wouldn't throw him away if she got bored of him. He felt like her dog, but after all, he still looked at him like his master. And he didn't want to be punished and bound by chains another time, or to end up in a dark room where he would stay till he decayed and died.

"Why are you scared Brad?"

"I'm not..."

"Mom!"

"Oh, I've let him wait long enough. We'll talk again later, alright dear? You can leave our luggage in the entrance, just walk around the house and try to settle down."

"But I..."

She walked away with that, without even looking back. For an instant, Bradley felt like an orphan. She was all he had now. And she preferred to spend time with a kid than with him. Darn Pride and his cute looks!

As he was about to consume his rage in mental loathing, the bell door rang. He looked around, surprised, and decided to open the door, since Amelia was acting as if he was her husband and thus, the owner of the place. He knew it barely made sense, but he needed to raise his self-esteem somehow. The man he met on the outside reminded him of many many memories.

Roy stood very still as he recognized the old Fuhrer. Bradley stood very straight, looking as strong and powerful as before. For a moment, the new general thought he had stepped back in time. And then he found his voice again.

"So you're back, sir."

For a short moment, Bradley thought he wouldn't find anything to say. But a laugh came to his lips as an old habit awakening in front of the younger soldier. He had to handle this encounter. If he could, the rest was also possible.

"Oh oh, Mustang! It's been years. That's a nice moustache you got yourself. Where's your loyal lieutenant?"

Roy shifted on his feet nervously. Was that a threat? It was weird to look at the old Fuhrer and to see both of his eyes. The tattooed eye especially.

"She..."

Wrath was amused to see him hesitate. Awww, another man weakness. It was almost comforting him.

"I won't threaten anyone. I'm an old man, Mustang. I just wanted to know how Hawkeye's doing."

"She's doing fine, sir."

"That's good, really good. You should bring her on your next visit, Mustang. Come in, come in, make yourself at home. We've just arrived to Central and I got some catching up to do, if you would be so kind."

Mustang followed him inside, having the familiar and terrible feeling of stepping into the lion's den. He sure hoped that wasn't really it.

To be continued...

Aww, that's a long chapter I know. Please review and let me know what you want to see happen next ! ^^


	3. Chapter 3

I first want to thank everyone for their kind reviews over this story. The chapters are longer and the psychology is pretty deep, but that's my forte.

This was supposed to be the last chapter, but it isn't, so hang in there! ^ ^ There seems to be so much more I could do about this story. And introducing Roy got me to wonder off the track a bit. XD

Fallen memories – Part III

"Oh Roy! What a good surprise!"

Amelia almost flew in the younger man's arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek, as the ex-colonel laughed whole heartedly. Standing back, Bradley stared at their little game, desperately trying to ignore the burning feeling in his chest and the twisting of his heart. What was Mustang doing with his hands on the shoulders of his wife?

"You look better than ever, Amelia." Roy replied with a devastating smile.

Taking a step back, she framed her own face with her hands, blushing like a young lady.

"Oh, general, please!"

Bradley couldn't prevent himself from growling with anger to remind them of his presence. Amelia blushed for real this time and looked around. She met the frowning gaze of her husband and understood he had lost a good part of his sense of humour with his eye patch...

"Don't stay in the entrance like that, general, come in, you too, dear, let's go to the dining room. I'll make us some tea and..."

Even if Roy understood the dilemma, he simply smiled and cut off Amelia in her stuttering try at being a good and distant hostess.

"It will be a great pleasure for me, Mrs Bradley."

He could almost feel Bradley's burning eyes digging holes in his back, but he had to play his role all the way. If only to show Amelia that he would support her even though her husband was back. He would not show his fear in front of the Fuhrer's wife. It was a question of pride!

...

They sat together in the dining room, around a small square shaped table. Each male were on one side, Bradley clearly ready for confrontation while Roy tried to remained cool and confident despite all the old fears he once felt when King Bradley was standing in the same room as him. After all, that guy was almost invincible. And never mind how much Grumman had worked to remove all the influence Wrath once had, maybe even more because Grumman did made Bradley's life a misery, Roy feared a revenge from the ex Fuhrer. He barely dared to sip on his cup of tea, while Amelia, sitting between them, tried to make small talk.

"Xing looks incredibly pretty. You know, it was actually my first time going there." She said, managing a smile despite the tension that she could also feel in the room. "They'd put all those beautiful lanterns and there was a firework. It was the emperor birthday, you see."

Roy nodded with a smile.

Bradley was frowning. How come he hadn't been granted the right to hear all that? He had been at Xing with her, for a few hours, alright, but still! Wasn't he her husband? Shouldn't she talk from everything with him before to even address a word to the rest of the world? He felt so possessive of her, it was almost scary, but he still had no control over whatever was going on around him. And he wanted, needed control. He emptied his cup of tea, and the liquid burned down his throat, with memories of sweeter times, when he could drink slowly, when he had control, when Amelia smiled only at him.

He could almost grasp the memory, but it was silenced down by Amelia's next sentence. She was addressing to Roy, not him of course.

"You should take Riza there. It's your home country after all."

Despite the fact she was not even looking at him, Bradley's attention was won by the single mention of "Riza". Lieutenant Hawkeye was still close to her colonel. The bastard had even managed to make it general, so he could guess the blond woman had risen in ranks accordingly. Maybe a major. He could picture her with the heavy shoulders' decoration that implied. A creepy smile grew on his lips as he saw the younger man looking taken aback by Amelia's suggestion.

"I barely know a word of Xingese," Roy sighed, running a nervous hand in his dark locks.

"Come on, general, I know you're quite resourceful, or ... are you trying to tell me Riza can't travel right now?"

Amelia's voice was hinting something peculiar here, as if Riza's condition was... unstable. For an instant, Roy dared to look at Bradley in the eyes. And for a mere instant, Bradley could tell Roy was really uncomfortable of the turn this conversation was taking. The general didn't want Wrath to know anything about Hawkeye.

"How was your trip, Mrs Bradley?"

A clear attempt of changing the subject. Before that Amelia could answer, Wrath joined in, sitting back in his chair and looking down on Mustang.

"It was quite refreshing." He declared. "But what about Central, Mustang? What's new around here?"

Amelia tensed a little as she realized what her husband was after. Roy carefully reflected of the right answer to give. But the look on Bradley's face was a little too obnoxious to bear. How could he walk back in Central and act as if he still owed the place?

"Grumman is the new Fuhrer. Armstrong is the top general and most state alchemists were revoked."

Wrath felt a slight twitch in his heart at the "Grumman is the new Fuhrer". That was his own rightful place, but he pushed the thought aside. Roy was ready for a fight. And even if he had been held prisoner and been a slave for all his life, Bradley knew how to fight, be it with swords or words.

"What about your own situation, colonel Mustang?"

"It's general, sir. And of course, I'm still the flame alchemist."

"Interesting. Bet the army couldn't let you on the loose. What about your precious lieutenant?"

"Dear..."

He raised one hand to cut her off and glared back at Roy. It took some time, but the answer came.

"Hawkeye is... a general brigadier."

"But she's on break now, since she's expecting Roy's child. There, are you happy now, Brad?"

Bradley blinked at that, surprised that Amelia would jump in and tell him exactly what he wanted to know. Mustang looked a little shocked that his secret was revealed so easily, and his mouth hung open for a moment, as if he was trying to look for something to say, but nothing came out. His shoulders slouched down, as if he accepted the idea that he was doomed.

"Come on now, those are some good news! Why keep it quiet? You got married with your lieutenant! I should have seen it coming, ha!"

Amelia wanted to believe her husband's smile was real as he said that, but looking at Roy's face, she could tell that it was all a big play.

"Oh Brad... Don't yell like that. You're making our guest nervous."

"No, it's alright, he's right Mrs..."

"It's not alright!" Mrs Bradley snapped, putting her cup back on the table so violently both men jumped, taken aback by her anger. "Would you two stop playing as if I was dumb? Now I can see it, I can tell you don't like each other. Is it how you've always acted, Brad? Or should I call you Wrath now? And you, Roy, trying to make him angry by shoving in his face all that's going on in the army... Have you no shame? I mean, both of you, you're...! Raaah!"

Amelia got up and walked away, unable to stand their little game anymore. Bradley felt abandoned, and almost guilty. As he looked back at Mustang, he wanted to throw all his rage at him, but he realized his heart was empty. His wife was angry at him. He had deceived her, once again. And it hurt so much to see her walking away. To recall the deception in her eyes. He could bet she was crying right now. Somehow, he had showed the monstrous side of him she couldn't bear to see.

Roy shifted on his chair, doubting his visit had been any help in the situation. He stared back at Bradley's empty eyes. Waited for him to talk, since he was sure the homunculus had something to say. As he waited, he remembered their last fight. How his hands had been pierced by his blades... He could still feel the pain from it, on rainy days. And Riza still had the scar on her neck, from that blade which had almost took away her life. And while Bradley stood still, his heart empty of its usual and consuming rage, Mustang felt his own anger awakening. And he forgot caution, for an instant.

"It's a pity." Mustang sighed. "When you think that she wanted from her own free will to go and get you back from Xing, only to take back a monster."

"Oh, so the small soldier boy knows how to bark." Wrath mused, faking surprise.

"If you were faking your affection for her...!"

That woke up Bradley's rage and he jumped to his feet.

"What do you know about me, Mustang? What do you know about what I think of my wife? She's my wife, MY wife, you hear me?"

"Oh really? Well, what do YOU know about her, King Bradley? Who made her run away just now? Who's been a jerk to her for the last 50 years?"

King looked the other way, his hands turning into trembling fists, but he didn't reply and sat back beside the table instead. That cooled down Roy's anger. The soldier quickly gathered back his composure, clearing his throat. Bradley accepted defeat so easily? That wasn't like him at all. And the shock made him realize he hadn't stepped back in time. The old Fuhrer looked... older. And tired. Beneath his wrath and hatred, there was nothing, but a broken man. If Roy couldn't believe it, what the homunculus whispered was proof:

"It's so easy for you to judge. As if some human could understand the situation I'm in."

At the moment, Bradley didn't really care about showing weaknesses to an enemy. Roy wasn't a rival anymore. He was an accomplice in showing Amelia the true depths of his own monstrosity. How used they both were to lie and to cover their real intentions with false smile and fake laughs. Both men stood in silence for an instant, their heart weighing quite heavy in their chest. It was Selim's eager running footsteps that brought them out of their lethargy. The small boy entered the dining room, holding a plane of wood in his hands.

"Uncle Roy, I thought I heard your voice, it's really you!"

Mustang's face lit up and he put on a cheerful smile. And for an instant, Bradley was back in his burning jealousy. This was his son, the only thing Amelia seemed ready to acknowledge as his around the place. So shouldn't the boy come to greet him first, even if they had barely met a moment ago? Mustang looked more used to be around the house than its rightful owner!

"Let's go and try to make this plane fly, alright Selim?"

"Yeah!"

The kid was literally ignoring his brand new father. Not that Bradley really cared at the moment...

"Run ahead, I'll be there in no time." After making sure Selim was out of the room, Roy looked back at his former Fuhrer.

"Hey, Bradley."

It was funny how all formalities could vanish from the man as he saw his once feared superior crumbling in his own little problems.

"If you really care about Amelia, why don't you go after her and try to explain things?"

"I don't need your meddling, Mustang."

"That's why I'm telling you to go, sir. Fix it before I have to meddle in your affairs."

Roy wasn't actually sure that it was a good thing to do, but since that homunculus seemed to really care about his former wife, he had to trust him a little. And after all, Amelia had survived taking the man back to her home. All that was left was for the man, or well, the monster, to play his old role and settle things back to how they should be.

Bradley got up, slightly angry at Mustang for giving him an order, but angrier at himself to feel obliged to obey it.

"Be careful about the way you talk to me, soldier boy. I wouldn't want to greet Hawkeye with a farewell, after all this time. I'll have to find a way to congratulate her for that coming baby someday soon though..."

Wrath was desperate to get the upper hand in their little duel and how strong he felt as Roy's eyes widened in sheer panic and as the general's palms violently hit the table, making the tea's cups jingle across the table.

"If you lay even a finger on any part of my family, I'll...!"

Mustang paused, forcing himself to calm down. He was getting just as emotional as the Fullmetal was years ago! But after all, he was a little more on edge than usual, with Riza pregnant. On the other end, Bradley's mind was stuck on that one word. "Family." He tried to shrug the roar of jealousy it created within him. Because even if Amelia had run after him and paid a fortune to get him back, they were anything but a family. And that was exactly what she wanted from him, he could tell as much now.

"I get the picture, general. Go look after the boy now."

Both men exchanged a long glare before to leave each on different side, even if they were close to understand each other. Looking back at their life, they were both orphans and top soldiers. They'd both been used by the military. They had both lied countless times. Dark hair. That seemed to be the new fashion, or was it just mere coincidence? When he looked at Selim standing next to Roy, he could see a stunning resemblance, and it was even more infuriating. But still, the ex colonel had been a monster just as much as him. As a state alchemist, he had killed many innocents. His hands were as dirty as his. Maybe even more, since he choose to follow this path, while Bradley's life had been designed for him before that he could even stand on his four. As Wrath wondered over it, he really couldn't see what Roy had that he hasn't. Alright, he was younger. And he was human. Was that such a big deal?

...

He found Amelia in a room that he could describe as a library. Large and comfortable armchairs were gathered in strategic place between shelves of books. The curtains were close on the wide windows and the middle-aged woman of his dreams was sitting on a green armchair, her legs folded in front of her, her face buried within her crossed arms. Her pose made her look a lot younger, with only her hair visible, all messy and loosened. Her small shoulders were shaking, jerking up at each of her sobs. And she was crying, as silently as she could, though she miserably failed at hiding her state of mind. The sight broke his heart and he forgot all rivalry, all comparison and all the petty threats he had in mind. All the excuses he could have pictured despite what little was left of his pride were also blown away.

All that was left was a painful guilt. His throat felt dry and he blamed the tea, even if he knew better.

"Amelia..."

She jumped, suddenly aware of his presence and her green eyes, shimmering with angry tears glared at him for an instant, before that she turned her face away from him, sniffing and snivelling as she tried to stop herself from crying.

"Go away! I just can't stand you anymore!"

And he could hear her pain in her voice. How words could hurt. Petty humans. Petty words. He once had been a giant, invincible, only able to fear bones, and now he could almost crawl under the weight of her words.

"You don't mean that."

"I always mean what I say, mind you!"

Bradley stood still an instant, realizing she wasn't just hurt, but still quite angry. In all the small memories he held from his past with her, her being angry didn't even exist. But lately, it seems all he could do was to drive her mad. And the emperor knew she was patient. But they had reached her breaking point. He couldn't find the strength to talk back to her. So he lowered his head, trying to control his own anger.

"Amelia..."

"Leave me alone! I don't wanna be fooled anymore. I can't..."

Wrath stared at her, with disbelief. Was it going to end like this? She had jumped back in his life, got him wanting his old life back, got him wanting, needing her, just to push him away now?

"Amelia."

"Don't say my name like that! Don't act as you cared!"

"But I care, dammit! Why would I be here if I didn't?"

"You're depending on me, remember? I'm your master, that's why! As long as you can get food and shelter and maybe even some fun with me, why would you wonder off, huh?"

She looked up and he had to look away. Her words were like direct blows to his chest. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to stay standing. But he still managed to find his voice and to keep it steady as he asked her:

"So you hate me, now, is that right?"

That seemed to stop her crying. She froze. Now was the time to say something that would get her to forgive him, at least for the moment. But his mind was empty. All he wanted was to see her smile, but how could he fix what a lifetime of lies had done? Why did she resent him for something he couldn't change? Why couldn't he turn back time?

"I know I'm a monster." He sighed, his voice sounding hoarse. "You know it. You knew it back when we were together, didn't you? I've killed people, more than I should. It was a part of my job. And I did lie. And there's nothing I can do to undo what was done in the past. But... "

He saw her brows furrowing, as if she expected him to say something and he gulped down, wishing he could read in her mind. He needed to be clever here. To find something she didn't expected, but also something that would soothe her anger and pain.

"I can be different if that's what's needed. I'll wear your stupid eye patch, I'll rip off my eye if necessary, I don't care about pain."

She blinked and he wondered if that was a little over the top. But since she wasn't crying or yelling at him anymore, he thought he was going down the right trail. Taking a few careful steps towards her, he reached out one hand. Grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Just look at me with the same eyes as before."

She blinked once more and Bradley thought he was going to die, right there. Couldn't she understand with just that? He needed to see her recognition, to see her love for him. Otherwise, his life would remain meaningless. But he couldn't go back to that after meeting her for a second time. At the same time, it was hard to express so many feelings into words. He felt so open in front of her. Vulnerable. He wanted to hide from her piercing gaze. But he had to let go of every defensive walls he could put around himself, even if it meant giving her more chances to break him. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to trust him.

"Brad..."

Oh, she wasn't made of ice; he was reaching her with his plea, but was it enough? She was shivering under his touch.

"I'm not just a monster. It's a part of what I am, but..."

She raised one hand, hesitantly, before to cover his tattooed eye with her hand.

"It's only one side of you, is that what you mean, darling?"

A knot built up in his throat. So it was "darling" at new? He didn't dare to say a word, he barely moved his head in agreement and a small grin appeared on her face. It was as if the dark room lighted up suddenly. But her hand shifted, following his sharp traits. Covering his human eye so that only the monster one could look at her. What was she trying to prove now?

"You really can see me with that eye?" she asked him.

And there was nothing aggressive about her voice. Only curiosity. He felt relief. Utter relief. He could still be a man in her eyes. She could still find interest in him. In a way no one else would be able to interest her.

"Quite well, in fact."

Her fingers brushed his few hanging locks.

"It looks so strange." She mused.

"Regard it as a scar." He suggested, suddenly inspired.

That made her smile entirely. He finally dared to wrap his arms around her and got her to get up, so that he wouldn't have to lean down as much. Her hands joined behind his neck. As her face come closer to his, he saw doubts in her eyes.

"You're not my Bra..."

He cut her off in the only way he knew how. With a kiss. It was tender and soft, because he was scared of rushing her. How he wanted to be her Brad, the one she had come seeking when she stepped in his Asian master's house. But he was Wrath now. And furiously in love with her. He felt her lower her guard, giving up to melt in his arms and to kiss him back. Her lips tasted salty from her tears. Her mouth tasted sour like her tea, and also like her pain. But it was warm and soft to the touch. He felt her hands running through his hair, and he remembered that feeling. She felt so familiar, like a long lost home he was returning too. He held her closer, though closer would never be enough to satisfy his craving for her.

She moaned deeply, stirring him up. But then, as soon as they were getting used to each other, as soon as he felt bold enough to leave her mouth and kiss her throat, her hands firmly pushed him away.

"No, this is wrong, Brad. You're not..."

He could swear something within him broke at that.

"I'm him! Come on, look at me, I'm King Bradley. But I've always been Wrath too. Why can't you accept me as I am _now_? I'm not lying anymore. I don't remember lying even once over it, but I still have to earn your forgiveness?"

"Oh Brad, I know this is hard on both of us, but..."

"But shut up!" he retorted angrily.

And she obeyed, almost looking scared. And that wasn't what he'd been aiming for, of course not, anything but to feel her trembling in fear under his gaze. Bitting his lower lip, he hugged her close. She didn't resist, quivering between his arms like a mouse.

"I don't know what to say to fix this, Amelia. I don't know if there's even a way to fix us." He sighed. "And you make me talk too much."

He felt her arms tightening around him as he said that. Her hands were grasping his shirt, almost pinching his skin through the fabric. And he could feel her tension. Her desire, and her pain and her anger, just in the way her hands were gripping to him.

"You wouldn't have to talk as much if you would just say the right words, dear."

"You wouldn't hear them right now."

And he would be made way too vulnerable if he was to say those words.

"Brad."

_I wish I had a real name_, he thought.

He gently forced her in another kiss, a desperate one and since she was also desperate, she kindly deepened their embrace, just to fool herself once more. But there was no fooling around this time. No running away. And she didn't push him away when he got her to moan. In fact, this time, they were interrupted...

"What are you doing to my mom?" Selim asked, almost yelling.

The two grown up automatically parted, as if they'd been doing something wrong. The small boy was looking panicked and shocked and he quickly run into the room to come between his "father" and his mother, hugging his mothers legs to show who had a right to hold her or to be close to her.

"What do you think you're doing? Are you okay mom? He didn't hurt you?"

"Oh Selim, of course he didn't." Amelia tried to laugh.

But the kid looked worried.

"He has a really big voice. And I heard him yelling at you."

Bradley sneered silently, not sure if Pride was putting on a show just to make him mad, or if this was really Selim being the innocent protector of his mother...

"Your son was worried, Amelia, you can't really blame him. I guess you guys have a lot of catching up to do, so I'll leave." Roy observed, standing on the doorstep.

"Okay, well, tell Riza I said hi!" Amelia said, gently grabbing Selim by the shoulders.

Bradley crossed his arms, trying to muster his new anger. His wife gave him an apologetic look. It seemed she hadn't wonder too much over how the boy would take their relationship. And though Bradley didn't remember it, they had never really been that much demonstrative in front of the kid before...

...

And thus began their try at living like a family. Though it was more like two boys competing each other to get Amelia's attention. At first, she was kinda amused by their little game, but she soon got sick from it. Since she had been away from Selim for almost a whole week, she kept on neglecting Bradley to spend all of her time with the kid. Said kid refused to play with his dad and aforementioned dad was just too glad to pass playing child's game. But he couldn't help but stare as Amelia would crouch to the floor to play with Selim, how she'd stay on her four to be at the kid's level. He was looking for a sign. And he could see through the loving smile she kept giving to her son, that something was still wrong. Something was missing.

As the days went by, they would eat together, only the three of them. Bradley would walk around the house, or read books and the journals. Amelia had kept a lot of old newspapers for him and he liked triggering some of his memories but rechecking old news. He had retraced a lot of what had happened during his Father's days. He also remembered must everything that there was to know about Pride. But Selim was so different than the kid he remembered. The boy slowly grew accustomed to the man's presence. He refused to call him dad and totally forbid him to make a gesture towards his mom, especially when his mom looked down or was tired. Selim had the terrible conviction that whatever Brad could do, it would hurt Amelia. But he could stand seeing him being in his house. He had no trouble showing his toys to that weird old man. And Amelia would smile whenever Wrath would show interest in the boy. But those moments were rare.

Bradley did his best, but Selim was just out of his league. He could barely stand the boy whenever Amelia was around, because it meant that little pest would be all over her, and stay intent on keeping them away from each other. And to believe they both let a kid dictate how they should act. He wanted to talk about it with her, but Selim was the first he would have to talk with if he wanted anything to change. And he wasn't going to beg a child to get a chance to touch his own wife. The said wife let the kid ruling over them, so, it must be meaning she wasn't really interested.

Maybe the fact Bradley kept on telling her what she should do or not do with the boy didn't help. But he couldn't stop himself from warning her.

"You shouldn't lift him in your arms. You're too old for that." "What are you doing on your knees? You're going to hurt yourself!" "Don't climb in trees if he does. Even if he falls, he'll be alright." "You're too old for this." "Start acting your age." "Amelia, don't..." "No, you shouldn't..." "Don't, don't, too old... you're growing thinner, I can tell as much. What didn't you eat anything? Amelia, you're not getting any younger. Amelia... Stop messing with your health. Let me do it. No don't bent your back. Go sit down and relax. Amelia..."

And so on and so on. Bradley knew he may sound unnerving, but she was driving him crazy. It seemed as if each day she was pushing her own limits a little farther. He could see the wrinkles under her eyes and the bags of tiredness. And still, she would play with Selim, run with him outside even if she ended up out of breathe and panting like an asthmatic. He was starting to wonder if she even slept. She was looking even more tired on each new morning. Was she angry at him? Was she driving herself to the limit because of the hard situation they were going through? Every meal time was kinda tensed, and she barely ate anything in her plate. Selim had noticed it too and was pretty sure it was his "father's" fault.

In short, none of them was really happy, if only for the brief moments when Amelia would smile at Bradley or thank him for helping her with the dishes or when she would play with Selim and forget about their strange life.

The rest of the time, life was hell on earth. Bradley wanted to adapt, but there was no room for him to do so. Selim wasn't ready to share his mom. And his mom was scared of trusting Wrath, since he was what he was. And it torn her up inside, because she knew she was also making him suffer. She forbid him any access to her room and gave him a separate place to stay, with his old army uniforms and the very few civil clothes he had from before. She also let him his swords, all six of them, though he couldn't understand why she would do so.

Whenever he needed to kill time, Bradley would end up facing outside in the garden. And that brought back many more nightmares, from the time in the lab facility, and from the time he was entirely human. He didn't have any other big fight with Amelia. Well, the only thing they would fight over was how she handled Selim. That was when the boy was asleep which was the only time of the day they could be alone together. But the fact he was asleep meant they couldn't yell. Brad realized that whispers could carry much more anger and hurt than all the yells he could have threw at her. He also realized that those whispered fights were getting the better of her and slowly stopped talking at all. It seemed they couldn't start a discussion without once mentioning Selim. After all, it was a link they shared, though he still couldn't admit it.

Bradley thought that she spoiled him. She thought that he hated the boy and hated him for it. At the same time, she was angry at herself to even feel like that. Sometimes, Wrath wondered if he wouldn't be better in his old chains...

...

One afternoon, Bradley was reading the newspaper, sitting in his favourite chair of the house, right next to the fire place. He had come to like spending time alone, when he could let his mind run wild on something else than Amelia. He was seriously thinking of not even showing up for dinner, when Selim burst into the room, panting and calling his name:

"King! Hey King, I need your help!"

Bradley ignored the boy. The kid had often pulled pricks on him and he wasn't going to let him fool him this time.

"Come on, King, I'm talking to you!"

He barely lifted one brow, not looking away from his newspaper.

"I'm your father, boy, might as well start treating me like one."

He wasn't sure why he asked that. He was tired of being regarded as a stranger in his own house. Tired of being kept away from Amelia. He knew better than to the yell at the kid, his wife wouldn't let him live if he did get too angry at Selim. And making her mad was the last thing he wanted. But then again, he had to stand his ground against the boy. It had taken him time to realize he could be impressive and authoritative without yelling or taking out his blades.

"Oh, blast you, old man, this isn't a bad joke, mom..."

"Call me father and I'll listen," Bradley declared.

"Well, you could try calling me Selim instead of boy." The kid retorted.

Wrath grinned despite all his effort to ignore the little runt. That spoiled kid was a lot like him in fact, maybe was it exactly why he had so much trouble dealing with him.

"Alright, Selim." He whispered, not looking up from his newspaper.

The small boy felt ready to get mad, but he accepted to give up this one fight. Somehow, he felt that was just as important as the service he was about to ask.

"Dad, it's about mom. Her back's stuck, she can't move. And she looks like she really hurt."

Even if Selim hadn't called him "dad", Bradley would have heard. He got up so quickly his head was spinning, but he couldn't care less about it.

"Why didn't you say so earlier? Where is she?"

Selim looked pitiful and worried beyond words. Nothing like the Pride Wrath remembered. The kid cared for his mom. He genuinely cared.

"In the play room." The boy retorted. "She said to get you and... I guess I'd better stay here."

It was strange to hear the boy voluntarily giving up on his mom. But Bradley had no time to wonder over that. He ran to the play room, where he had barely ever set foot. Amelia was on her knees, one hand on her side, keeping herself half raised with her other arm.

She eyed his entrance with a mix of relief and self-derision.

"Don't tell me I told you so." Was all Brad got as greeting.

"I won't..." he retorted, slowly walking up to her.

He kneeled next to her, feeling pretty helpless.

"So your back's stuck? What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know... But do something! My whole body is begging for mercy." She retorted, her eyes closing down from the pain as she shook her head.

"Okay."

He hated himself for sounding nervous, but that kinda reassured her. They had maybe aged together, but something like that had never happened before. Her back hurt in whichever position she could take and her legs refused to move. She felt empty and heavy at the same time. She had been playing with Selim, bent down for a few minutes only, when suddenly, as she tried to raise herself back up, she couldn't complete her movement.

_What the hell am I supposed to do..._ he wondered.

He slowly snaked one arm around her waist, to have her resting her back against his chest. He imitated her pose, so that their bodies would be aligned in parallel lines. She was breathing fast from the pain, which was too great. It felt almost scary.

"Stop bending your back like that."

"I can't, that's exactly why I asked Selim go and get you."

_I don't want to hurt her, but I can't stand that pose for much long myself. I'm older than her_, he thought.

He slowly raised her from the ground, and that was actually the easy part. She realized she could actually stretch out her legs and touched the floor with her feet, but her back refused to endure the pressure of standing up.

"Don't let go of me, Brad, you can't began to imagine just how much this hurt." She whispered between her clenched teeth.

So he kept lifting her weight for the most part, wondering over a way to ease her pain.

"Where does it hurt the most?"

"I don't know, my back feels as if it's going to break. I feel as if getting it to crack would be much better but..."

"Okay."

After positioning one of his hands on her stomach and the other one on the low of his back, he forced her to straighten up with one swift motion. Her back made a cracking sound and she let out a gasp of surprise as the pain suddenly subsided.

"Is this better?"

He had acted more on impulse then knowingly and wasn't sure if he actually did the right thing. She felt so small under his hands. He held her tightly and she barely nod, slowly realizing that he'd forced the knot in her back to vanish. All that was left was the ghost of the pain.

"I didn't mean it literally. I never thought you knew some kinaesthetic tricks." She observed, leaning onto him.

"Well, I didn't really think about what I was doing. Though I had told you to stop..."

"Oh no, don't give me that now, Bradley!"

"But Amelia!"

"I know I'm old and ugly, but..."

"When did I ever said that?"

As he refrained himself from yelling, he gently massaged the sides of her waist, wanting her to relax. He also wanted to rediscover her shapes, but hoped she wouldn't rebuke him once again.

"You've said it over and over again in the last few weeks." She whispered.

"You know I didn't mean it like that. You're not that old. You're just... not young anymore."

That wasn't the right way to put it, she tensed in his hands and he tried to cuddle her back into a relaxed stance, stroking her sides, and the low of her back and even her shoulders. And she let him do so, even if she felt ready to get mad. God, was it good to have him touching her. Even if his words were saying mean things, she could tell he desired her. This had been clear since the very first day they had spend together since she acknowledged him as Wrath. She felt him kissing her neck and almost lost it.

"Bradley..."

"You're beautiful, Amelia. Maybe a little too thin right now, but still, you got all that I want."

He cupped one of her breast through her clothing and held her closer, sneaking his free hand underneath her shirt, much to her surprise. And she whined under his touch, after being untouched by a man for so long. Showing her hair to the other side of head, he started numbing at her ear, before to resume kissing and licking the nape of her neck, which send shivers down her spine. She felt all limp between his hands.

"Bradley, this isn't the right place of the time. Selim could..."

"I don't want to have him between us anymore."

With his hand wandering over her lower stomach and much lower, he brought her even closer to him, almost crushing her against his hard body. This time, she winced from pain, which made him recall that her back was still too stiff and painful for this kind of activities. He stopped moving, keeping her in his arms, trying to find a solution, any solution that would still get him satisfied. His hands were heavy on her and she had trouble breathing, in the clutches of his embrace.

"Brad, you're crushing me," she complained.

He let go of her instantly, though they were both reluctant to part from each other. She slowly turned around and they exchanged a long stare, filled with unease and tension.

"I'm not trying to reject you, but..." she tried to apologize.

"I don't want to hurt you," he retorted. "But you really got under my skin."

"Wrath," she sighed.

Her using his homonculus' name on a soft ton took them both by surprise. Lately, she had been switching between all of his names, and it was getting pretty confusing for both of them. He had come to the state where he assumed she called him by the name of the person she wanted him to be. And it was another surprise to realized he couldn't stand hearing her calling him "Wrath".

"Don't! I'm not that monster anymore." He protested.

"But that's your real name, ain't it?"

She was confused since he had once insisted for her to call him that way. What was wrong with it now?

"Wrath?"

"I'm not His Wrath!" he yelled, feeling a strange and heavy pressure over his heart.

Why did it hurt to hear her calling him like that with her sweet voice? Hadn't he wanted her to do so? But she was talking to a stranger, how could she act as if he was a mere homunculus? He was Brad. That was the only name he truly liked hearing in her mouth. Where had it gone?

"Who's He? Do you man your "Father"?"

He tried to shake his head as his mind was buzzing with flashes. Lust would call him Wrath. He remembered having mixed feelings for her. Almost cheating on Amelia once. And shame. The hated shame...

Pride would call him Wrath. Order him around. Laugh of his beloved wife. Oh he hated that kid.

Glutonny would call him Wrath, fearing him, looking for guidance. For more victims to eat. An instant, he remembered how that imbecile said he preferred eating women. And shame was back.

Envy would call him Wrath with his sarcastic ton. Never respecting anything, but at least admitting that he was stronger than him.

Greed wouldn't call him anything. Not even when he had killed him. Even when that Xin's prince became Greed. He would always give him lesson over what it meant to be king.

Father would call him Wrath. Or number 12. It wasn't a fun thing, to listen to Father. Actually dangerous for his nerves. How Father disgraced humans like Amelia. And how he had planned that she would die, with everyone else.

For all those reasons, he couldn't let her call him Wrath. It was too painful. He hardly gulped down.

"Let's not talk about this."

"Well, wasn't it also a part of your life?"

"Amelia..."

She sounded bitter again. What could be going on in her mind for her to be so changing?

"You know it's hard to trust you after seeing just how many secrets you kept from me. And you remember them, don't you? You remember your Father and Pride, so don't tell me the rest is still lost."

"What do you want to hear? I thought you didn't want to know anything about the homunculi. And since I do remember, I can assure you, you really don't wanna know anything."

"Well, I still heard a few things about what you were up to. Don't you think I asked myself questions? I heard about your plan. About the sacrifices and all."

That was one of the things that had been eating her up from the inside. How could she forgive him for joining in such a scheme? At first, she was too happy to see him again to think over all of it. But now, she was thinking of everything that had happened in the past. She was facing reality. And it hurt.

"Oh come on, because I worked along the plan didn't mean I was agree with it!" he claimed.

"Oh really? When I'm not agreeing with something, I try to work against it, not along hand in hand!"

"Amelia, you have no idea..."

"YOU have NO idea what it means to learn your husband is planning to kill every citizen in your own country!"

Bradley stood still, taken aback. So she knew that much? He felt his throat tightened. Now she looked worst than mad at him. He almost wished he had died along some fight instead of having to face her now. Because he knew there was no way he could be forgiven.

_Even if it wasn't my choice. Even if we were both trapped_, he thought bitterly.

"And if I understand correctly, I was also supposed to die in that plan?" she asked, her hands shaking as they turned into fists.

She was doing all she could to stand still. Bradley was starting to wonder why she was getting at it only now. Had she just learned the truth? Or had she waited all this time for him to apologize or something?

"What do you want me to say now, huh?"

His voice was ready to break down.

"So I was supposed to die along the rest of Amestris? I didn't..." She swallowed down her grief and fear and ordered him: "Answer me for heaven's sake!"

"Well..." He knew it was a mistake to answer her, but her anger at him made him angry in turn. He had already asked her over and over that she accepted him as he was and still, she wanted more proof that he was a monster? Well, she would get her answer! "Yes, Amelia, you would have died." He cooly said.

Her determination faltered as he admitted it. He saw her glare turning into tearful eyes before that she swirled around, to run away from him. He tried to add something, to add all the thoughts and feelings that were turning in his head. Like: "I didn't want you to die" or "we were all supposed to die, you, me, Pride, everyone except Father", but would she understand? His voice had broken down, a strangled sob was stuck in his throat and he could only watch her running away. Man, she ran fast for a woman who had just hurt her back. Her warmth was still on his hands, but his heart already felt cold.

_If I had objected to that plan, you'd only died sooner. We had years together. Years, Amelia. I lied, but it was also for your sake. And because I'm selfish and I needed you by my side. Can't you understand that by yourself? Can't you remember? I never wanted you dead. And we're both still alive. So why can't we find peace together, now?_ He thought.

He didn't shed a tear, but he was close to it. And he couldn't even hate her for it. He couldn't hate anyone but himself right now.

To be continued...

I had first decided to finish this story with this chapter, but it ended up that I couldn't have everything I wanted in it. So this story will end with the next and fourth chapter, unless I got another incredible idea. I think Amelia has revisited every wrong things Bradley did in his life. Now, we'll see if he can fix things before that it's too late for them. Please review to help me writing faster! ^^


	4. Chapter 4

This shall be the final part in Fallen Memories. I know it took me time, but there's a lot of work put in this and I had the craziest semester this year. Next one is going to be harder, since I'm retaking the four hardest classes in psychology to raise my grades to be sure to have a chance of entering a doctorate... Anyway, Fullmetal Alchemist is still by far my favorite manga and anime ever, I can't stop myself from rewatching and rereading it. Still have to find another serie just as good to follow. It will be hard to find anything as good. ^^ I sure hope you'll have a great time reading this and that we'll meet again in another fic.

Fallen memories – Part IV

The silent treatment was Bradley's fate for a whole week. Selim talked more to him than Amelia did. The woman literally evaded him, acting like a ghost in her own house. Their son was extremely worried. Slowly, Wrath understood that the boy couldn't be Pride. But doubts lingered. Pride had always been an extremely good actor...

Then came the fateful night during which Bradley had all the proofs he needed that Selim wasn't Pride, but that he wasn't entirely ridden of that ghost either. For some reason, the man made homunculus had trouble falling asleep when a shy knock on his door made it clear he wouldn't sleep that night. It was running incredibly late in the night, or well, incredibly early in the morning; and for a moment, he thought that it could be Amelia on the other side of the door. He eagerly got up and had to subdue his deception as he saw only Selim on the other side of the door frame. The boy was wearing his blue pajamas, his eyes wide opened. He looked unsure of himself as he felt the gaze of his "father" falling over him.

"I'm sorry, si... dad..."

"Don't babble like that. Speak up like a man, son."

Bradley had started treating the boy with more respect. The word "son" was a rarity, and he'd wished Amelia would notice his tremendous efforts over the matter that had separated them. But then again, if the woman refused to get along, at least he would make sure that Selim would respect him. It felt a little as if both males had managed to join as allies. They weren't Amelia's enemy, but they would understand each other. Wrath often felt clumsy and inexperienced about everything that made him human, and Selim was just as clumsy and inexperienced as him.

"I... I had nightmares, so I couldn't sleep and I..."

It was clear on the boy's face that he had to step on his pride to admit anything like that.

Bradley sighed and opened the door entirely.

"Aren't you supposed to look for your mother for comfort?"

Selim blushed and looked the other way, shivering in his pajamas. His bare foot on the floor made him look extremely vulnerable and Bradley wondered if Pride could ever have fake something like that.

"She locked herself up in her room, so I thought she didn't want to be disturbed. And I thought... you would understand..."

He looked up, expecting to be reprimanded. Anything would be better than being alone once again, with the memories of his terrible nightmares. The tall man in front of him pulled a face, before to let a smile grow on his features.

"You're still a little kid, Selim. It's normal for you to have nightmares and be scared. I guess you can come in and we'll talk about it."

It felt slightly awkward phrased like this, but the boy looked reassured and walked inside the room. He waited to see what his father would do and sat next to him on the side of the bed as he was invited to do. Bradley waited for his ex-brother to talk. He remembered how they would meet in the past, in the middle of the night, Pride always hiding in the darkness, letting his voice grow stronger. Wrath remembered how he hated this side of his life. To be ordered around by this homunculus, when _he_ looked older, when _he_ was the only one allowed to walk around the human world on a daily basis! What did Father had to keep an eye on him like that? Why was Pride so set up on bossing him around? It had almost driven him mad. At the same time, he would easily get mad. Inwardly, that is...

He waited patiently for a few minutes, but Selim remained silent, waiting for a sign that he could speak up.

"What is it?" he ended up asking.

"You're gonna think I'm crazy."

"Every kid in the world is crazy. That's human nature. And I had my lot of heavy nightmares. I can take it." Bradley grumbled, half joking.

Selim gave him a weak smile. Their relationship hard started wrong, but they had ended up developing a complicity that was different from the way Pride and Wrath used to meet in the past. It was something fragile, but something that made them feel safer around each other. They looked a lot alike. Selim had admiration in his eyes when he saw the old man carrying his swords around. When he would start practicing, the boy's eyes would start to shine. He had asked him for lessons once. Bradley wasn't too sure about it, especially about what Amelia would think. It was a matter left in questioning for now. He would ask when his wife would feel better about all that she'd learned from him.

"I don't know if I have the strength to talk about it out loud."

Raising one brow, Bradley stroked the boy' head, shuffling his hair with his large fingers.

"You have all the strength you may want. You stood up to me on my first day here. It takes some nerve to anger a Fuhrer."

"Ex Fuhrer." The boy reminded him.

It had turned into a joke between them, though Bradley wasn't always happy about it. Mustang had had quite an influence over the boy. There was a lot of work to be done to turn Selim into an obedient soldier, and even more to make sure he would be a civilized man that wouldn't go after all the young women looking his way. Bradley had started to worry about the future. Amelia had clearly put him in charge; since she was too busy mending the broken pieces of her own heart. He knew it was his fault and he wished he knew what to do. But he hadn't lied one day since they met in his old xingese chains.

"There, you see? You've got guts."

A weak laugh came from the child. Bradley felt him quivering under his hand. So small and frail, when he felt so old and clumsy himself... The child hid his face in his arms, shivers starting to win him over. His eyes were half closed, and they were shining with fears, like two stars in the night. Wrath guessed the boy needed to cry or something. He clumsily wrapped one arm around his small frame, before to tease him a little.

"Scared from the dark, boy?"

He shook his head.

"I'm more scared of the light. It creates shadows. Lots and lots of shadows. I hate them and their eyes..."

Bradley froze at that. It sounded way too familiar to be a simple coincidence. Was it really just Selim next to him? Couldn't it be that he was slowly reverting into Pride? He stroked the boy's forehead. The strange circle on his skin was undetectable under his touch. But he could see it clearly with his ultimate eye. What was it? Was this the remnant of his homunculus selve? Something to trigger him back to the monster he once was? Or something to repel the shadows that once obeyed him?

"I've been having the same dream a lot lately," Selim started. "I'm lost in a really dark place, with a slight glimpse of light. Eyes are surrounding me from the corner of every wall. I feel tentacles around me, like dozens... hundreds of hands gripping onto me. Something... I can't tell if it's even human, so I have to say that it is something that is smiling at me in the distance. Its teeth are white and wide and its smile goes too far. It's almost surrounding me. There's no sound outside. Only voices running inside my head. It feels empty. And lonely. So lonely, I'm scared no one even realizes that I still exist."

Bradley was captured by those words. It depicted something Pride had admit once. His live had been a lonely one. The first homunculus ever created. The only of his kind. A simple copy from his father. He could be proud of himself. Proud of his creator. He had to make sure nothing could ever surpass him, otherwise, his pride – the very reason he lived for- would be challenged. He hated doubting himself. After all, he was arrogant. Though he was based over someone who should have been perfect, he was bounded by limits. He had a vast container, but a container nonetheless. He couldn't go everywhere. In complete darkness, he could do less damage. He was made of shadows and pride, but without light to create his paws and hands, he had no shape. As if he never existed.

"...wide, purple and red eyes, staring at me. And at the end of the nightmare, I wake up screaming, when I realize that those eyes are in fact all mine!"

Bradley heard the pain behind the fear. How could Selim see himself as such a monster? How could the kid remember anything from being an homunculus, when his being had reverted to a small baby? Wasn't Pride dead? Was he trying to come back?

"Mom has pictures from me when I was... older, which is impossible. But she has them. So how can I know that this nightmare is truly impossible too?"

"What scare you the most, the pictures, or that nightmare?"

"Both..."

Wrath exchanged a grave look with the boy. He had to carefully choose his words here, though he was more a man of action than of words.

"You're really too brilliant for your own good, Selim. This must be from my side of the family."

"We don't share blood, dad... I was adopted."

"I know. But our families are closer than you could think... The pictures you saw are all real, and they're from a real boy."

"It couldn't be me right?"

"You mom never wanted to show you those picture, didn't she? You searched around her things when she wasn't looking, right?"

Selim looked to his feet, vaguely ashamed.

"I won't punish you, those nightmares are enough."

"But why do I keep having them? And why aren't you telling me that the boy on those pictures isn't me?"

The child clutched his hands onto his father's shirt, demanding to be reassured.

"I don't really know what to tell you, Selim. You never had a twin. We adopted you many years ago, Amelia and me. You were different at the time, but you've changed to the better. We need the boy that you are now."

"How could I have been older? Am I sick or something? Am I... a monster?"

Bradley refrained himself not to wince. This wasn't what he'd expected. He remembered Selim as a simple container for Pride, but right now, he could feel the quick breathing of the boy on his arm. He could even guess that his heart was going quicker than a train. He saw himself in that child; on the night he had become a homunculus, when he was still a young perspective Fuhrer.

_Am I a monster?_ He had wondered over that question for most of his life. He had accepted the truth. But Pride was given another chance. Selim had no evil power anymore. His eyes were honest and pure.

"No, Selim. You got stuck in terrible battles that you didn't understand and where you shouldn't have been. You were faced with alchemy. It made you rejuvenate to the state of a small infant. We won't let it happen again."

For a moment, he was afraid that the boy would accuse him of lying. But Selim had started to trust his father. And it was the most coherent way of explaining his life.

"Where does that nightmare come from?"

Since his dad had answers, Selim determined he could get all those he needed to ease his mind. He felt terrible, as if he should be ashamed of having such nightmares. He was pretty sure other kids were scared of spiders or rats. Not shadows with eyes, tentacles and creepy smiles!

"From all those fights you were caught in." Wrath answered

"So something like that Thing really exists?"

The child looked terrified.

"It existed, but not anymore."

After that, all it took was repeating the same words over and over again. Bradley never thought he would be able to comfort anyone about anything. But it turned out pretty easy while he faced the boy. After all, it was all about stuff he knew and had experienced himself or closely seen. He was the only man in the world who could have understood the boy. He wondered if his lie would be seen through one day. If one day, the nightmares hunting the boy would catch up to reality and bring Pride back to life. That would certainly mean that they would have to fight. Unless they could be allies.

He wondered if Lust and Envy were still out somewhere in the world. Talking sense into Envy was out of the question. But maybe did they need protection and a proper life. Not that they really owed one. Lust was dead, as he slowly remembered. Or was she, now, really? He remembered her as someone who owned a lot more dignity than everything that she got in her life.

Greed and Sloth were dead. Glutonny had been eaten by Pride. Did that mean that the boy could have some of that fool's memories too?

Bradley couldn't help but wonder over all of this. He remembered his past. He remembered everything about Amelia too. Not that she would listen to him if he tried to show her his good will. Her anger and deception towards him were breaking him apart. He still held his ground without much trouble though and he decided that once Selim would get over his fear, he'd had to pay a visit to his wife. They had to settle things. Their quarrels had started to take a toll on the kid too. He had noticed his intervention had no more effect over his mother well-being.

"The worst in my dreams is that I'm always alone. Mom isn't there. And I'm scared to check if she's still there and to found out that she's not. She's getting older, isn't she?"

"She's doing fine." Bradley tried to reassure the boy. But that question was somewhat worrying him too and when Selim managed to fall back to sleep, a few minutes later, the man left him behind to go check on his mother. In his whole life, he'd never taken a better decision...

...

The door was locked and no one responded to his knocks. Of course, the woman could have been sleeping, but Bradley had a good intuition and even better ears. He clearly heard someone tumbling around stuff from inside the room. He held his breath and heard her mumbling, as if she had trouble talking. He wanted to call out her name, but he was afraid he'd wake up Selim. He didn't need a scene right now. He needed to make sure his wife was alright and that she would hear him out for once. Staying cooped up in silence wouldn't change anything. He wasn't sure what he could tell her. Saying that he had prevented Selim from becoming Pride for now wouldn't do any good. But he needed to see her alone. And now, he heard her yelping and he couldn't help but feel uneasy. Amelia had looked as gloomy as every other day today, so why did his heart suddenly skip a beat? He broke in, wondering why he felt such a sense of urgency.

Then he saw the rope and the legs of his wife, hanging in midair. She was struggling to breathe, one hand still on her chair, which was clearly going to topple over. The rope was tightly tied to her neck, in a loop that was slowly strangling her. His shoulder still hurt from breaking the door open and he wished to all the gods he knew about that Selim would not wake up from the noise. The last thing he needed now was a terrified boy. He was terrified enough himself.

What was she doing? Why was she trying to accomplish? All the questions ran in his heads as he moved.

In one swift motion, he had crossed the room and stabilized her, raising her up so the rope wouldn't strangle her anymore. It was hanging down from the roof, wrapped around a ceiling ventilator's fixation. As soon as his hands were on her, she tried to fight him back, but weakly. He stopped the chair from falling, forced her to stand. Her legs were barely holding her. Tears were rolling from her eyes. The noise of her hard breathing was like a knife piercing his heart. He refused to talk. He didn't even stare at her eyes. He needed to get her out of any danger and make sure she wasn't too hurt. He couldn't leave her alone. This was a clear suicidal attempt. She could try again as soon as he would turn his back on her.

He went through her things, around the desk in the room, smashing some things to pieces through the process. He found a pair of cissors and quickly cut the rope that had almost killed her.

"What were you thinking? What do you human can possibly think to do something like this? What could it bring you?"

His voice was trembling with anger and she shook her head, unable to speak, her hands holding her throat which was red from the burn left by the rope.

"Did you forget about Selim, Amelia? You've been worrying over him instead of me ever since we come back and now you try to..."

He was doing all he could not to yell out his frustration. The boy hadn't come around already, so he had to be still sleeping. It was a miracle in itself. He gently lead Amelia to her bed and laid her down on her pillows. His actions were soft and tender, but his hands were shaking and he had to refrain not to slap her across the face. How could she do is to him? How could she suddenly give up on everything without a fight? That wasn't like her at all. That wasn't the woman he had chosen to spend his life with. And he remembered. He remembered and it hurt more than ever.

"I..."

"Don't speak. Don't hurt yourself any further. I don't think I can hear anything right now or I'll crush you myself... What were you thinking?"

This time he yelled right in her ears, unable to hold it back anymore.

Amelia's eyes widened with surprise and fear. He sounded truly mad. He had every reason to be. But she just couldn't accept to live in such a lie. If she was supposed to die in their fake life together, wouldn't he be better off without her?

"I failed..." she managed to whisper.

"That was too close, Amelia. Were you thinking this would help our situation? Or were you just trying to hurt me in the process?"

She blinked at that, still massaging her throat, coiling up on herself. She could see the anger in his eyes. He had never looked that mad. But at the same time, there was something fragile in his gaze. Something like pain and self grieving.

"Aren't you prepared to see me dead?" she asked, still full of resentment.

"I was supposed to die along with you. It wouldn't have made any sense otherwise. Haven't you figured it out already? You were the only thing they ever let me... You are..."

His voice died down in his throat as he looked away, feeling too vulnerable in front of her. He couldn't permit himself to whisper any sweet words to her. Not when she had put him through such a fear. His heart was still pounding like a mad drum in his chest. His arms were covered with goose bumps.

She stared at him, rolling on her side as her breathing steadied. He looked like a beast in a cage. But he genuinely cared and he was saddened by her action.

"Brad..."

"I hope you weren't serious about dying here and now, if I ever get you trying again, I'll...!" He paused, unable to threaten her in any way. Hurting her was the last thing he would do. He barely ever dared to yell at her, let alone slap her across the face, though it was terribly tempting right now. Instead, he kept on pacing back and forth in the room, before to ask her with venom in his voice:

"You think your life is hard on you? You really think you've got the worst deal out of it? I started off as a test subject in a lab! We were dozens of guys, trained to become Fuhrer and I alone survived through it all. When I was given power, it was only to obey my master and to live the life he had designed for me. I was a mere puppet on a string. Only with you could I be myself, and now you're trying to die by your own hands?"

Amelia stared with disbelief and sadness as he said all that. He'd never talk as much over himself. He had complained in the past. He even admitted some nightmares, with scientists in a lab, when it was all too hard to take. But he was so strong and perfect at all time. So proud and always so in control of his self... But he never mentioned anything like that.

"I didn't mean too... It hurt so much, to see how you've lied and..."

He shook his head. He was scared he would confess too many things if he talked anymore. But at the same time, he had to convince her that though he couldn't be forgiven, he could make a difference in her life now.

"I remember, Amelia. You weren't one to give up easily when you set your mind on something."

"I'm sorry," was all she could mutter at first.

He had stopped pacing just to stare at her, so that she would understand how important this was to him. And she understood. He walked up to her, to sat on the edge of her bed and quickly checked on her throat, gently forcing her to remove her hands from her red skin. His fingers barely brushed against the bruised area where the rope had been tightly stroking. And he needed a promise that something like this would never happen again. But he didn't ask anything. How could he demand something when all he had ever done was to hurt her?

"Can I apologize too, Amelia? Will it change all the hate and betrayal feelings you hold towards me? I'm no good with words. I know how to manipulate and threaten. I know how to order and conquer. I know how to obey. How I ever managed to convince you to live with me, I'm not sure I could do it again."

"Brad, please, don't talk like that. Your eyes..."

He blinked, realizing tears were welling up. He still couldn't believe he had pushed her to such an extent. He had never tried to kill himself, not even once in his life. He had felt desperate though. But he was too proud to give up. And he could believe that the woman he chose could ever want to die. He needed her to support him. He needed her to follow him in everything he did. He needed her, just her, for heaven sake!

"I have a confession to make, Bradley. I'm not as strong as you believe. I can stand up to you when you're right in front of me. But when I realized that I never really knew you... When you were off dead and I learned about the whole truth, I tried to kill myself. At the time, Roy stopped me. Selim needed me. And I guess I still had to try and get you back. But the last weeks has been too much for me. I'm tired of arguing. I don't want excuses, but at the same time, I'm not sure what I really want."

Her voice was still hoarse from the pain and Bradley listened to her absentmindedly, still stroking her skin with swift motion of his fingers. Following the line of her jaw. Going by her few wrinkles. Looking for her heartbeat. Being content that her chest would still rise and fall and rise again. He was glad she didn't push him away. He was glad Selim was sleeping safe and sound in his bed.

"I've lied to you a lot, but I thought you would understand. I'm part human and homunculus. I know it was selfish to drag you in my life. Saying I lied to protect you wouldn't change anything or make the lies any easier to take. But..."

He sighed, replacing her hair around her face. She was crying now, but it wasn't because she was sad. To hear him talk so openly was new and terrifying in itself. How could she want to lose him forever? How could she try to kill herself when she had her husband back, without anymore lies?

"But what?" she encouraged him.

He lied next to her, so that they would be as equals, and because he suddenly felt terribly tired. His throat was too tight and he felt too exposed. She moved back, to leave him some space, her hand looking for his fingers. They felt old and young at the same time, as if they had gone back in time. Bradley wanted to stay mad at her, but he couldn't. He understood her reasons. He resented her for scaring him. She smelled like fear and lies. Like poison. He wanted that smell to vanish from her, so that her warmth would be the only thing left for him to taste. Their hands found each other.

"I chose you for a reason, Amelia. You stood by me. You treated me like a human and respected me for who I really was. I never regretted... Hate me all you want, but don't you ever try to die again. You left my world once already..."

"I don't... hate you, Brad."

It seemed she was forcing herself to call him by his favorite name. He tried not to let the attention get to this head. He was still mad at her, deep inside.

"You've drown yourself sick, refusing to eat... You're too thin."

"I'm just old." She tried to reassure him.

"Amelia, I don't want to fight with you. Just tell me you won't try anything like this again."

"I won't." She sighed. "It was wrong. But I felt so desperate. Why haven't you talked to me during the few last weeks? Why haven't you fight back when I was getting depressed?"

He rolled on his back to gaze at the ceiling, still holding her hand, but not looking at her. So now, it was entirely his fault once again? Weren't they two in this?

"Why is it so hard for us to get along?" he asked her.

She waited a long moment, in silence. They hadn't raise their voice, breathing next to each other, lost in thoughts, when she murmured:

"I think we're doing fine right now."

And it was true. Everything felt right. As long as he didn't look around to see the awful rope that could have broken her neck after strangling her to death. When had this started? When had they become so far apart?

"Won't it stop suddenly, as it did lately?" he added, admitting his little trust in himself.

"I'm ready to try my best."

"Then you have to rest and eat as much as you can to get back in shape. You're not that old. You were younger than me if I recall correctly."

"I thought you remembered everything?"

"I do remember. But my memory is as old and wasted as I am."

"I'm sure it's not." She said, almost playfully this time. "Why don't you prove it? There must be things you remember from our past that'll make sure you're really the same man as before. I think that discovering you so different and bitter and accepting your _homonculisity_..."

"This is the worst word you ever created, dear."

The sweet name came without thinking. They blinked, before to exchange a weak smile. She hid herself between his arms, since he was willing to let her do so. It felt comfortable. Her breathing closer to him was the best sound he'd ever heard.

"Why don't you try? Surprise me with memories I don't remember myself."

He reflected for a long moment, wondering if it was a test that he could pass. Their first encounter had been something, but he decided that it held too many bad feelings. After all, he had been pretty insulting and daring and she had slapped him.

There was their wedding day. It had been perfect in every way, even if Envy was hiding among the guests. And Lust who was also there and had almost ruined everything with her chilly laugh. But it was too far back. He had to think of something else. Something more recent. To show her that the man she loved hadn't changed. Than it came right to him.

"There was a gift I had prepared for you. It was for your birthday, or our wedding birthday, I don't recall the occasion that well, it's a few years ago and the whole chaos around Central and the sacrifices happened before I could even give it to you. It was a crystal ball, wrapped in a green package. It held a picture of us, when we were young. Since I hadn't forgotten and you had lost many of our pictures the year before."

Amelia was astonished. Somehow, until this point in time, she had been unsure if Bradley remembered anything about her. But she was positive that he had never seen the crystal ball since they met in Xin. There was no doubt that he remembered her, not just her body or else, but the woman she was and that he'd loved.

"It was a wonderful gift."

"You kept it?"

"Of course."

That made him smile. And though he thought it was far too easy, they slowly both fell asleep in each other embrace. They didn't sleep long, of course, Selim soon woke up from another nightmare and looked around for his father and mother. Finding them together had him shocked for a moment. They let the boy join them for the night. Bradley decided that he would have to check him more closely in the future, to make sure that the kid wouldn't revert into Pride. Or that it would be a controlled transformation, at the very least. His first preoccupation was Amelia welfare and he decided not to warn her about their son's problem. It would have to wait until she had build up enough strength, both physically and mentally.

...

The next few weeks were peaceful and filled with joy. The whole family, now finally acting as one, would celebrate around wide dinner, eating their fill and enjoying each other for the first time since they had been reunited. They played together. Bradley started training Selim at using swords, under the close watch of his wife. The boy's nightmares seemed to vanish, since he was working a lot and he slept like an angel. As for the couple, though they would quarrel every now and then for small stuff, they got along pretty well. But Bradley wasn't quite ready for the next step. When Amelia decided that they would go out together and that he would face the outside world without anything to hide his ouroborous eye.

She had dressed pretty well and was humming to herself. Bradley had one idea, and it was mostly of getting her out of her clothes, since they still hadn't done anything to satisfy their needs in that domain. What they had built together felt too fragile to go on and rush things. He understood that she would be scared somehow; after all, she knew he was a monster. She could always hold his gaze, but sometime, fear would flash back in her eyes. He did his best to ignore it, so that they wouldn't start fighting again. But he was growing a little more impatient. He had wanted since the very first day, even if it made no sense to him at first. And now, as he was allowed to sleep and live in the same room as her, he thought it was about time that things got serious.

"Don't stare at me like that, Bradley." She warned him.

He averted his eyes, shifting uncomfortably in his civil clothes. He had a necktie, over his white shirt and a nice dark vest. His shoes were shining and he looked pretty dignified. He made sure his hair was well arranged and asked for the nth time.

"Won't you tell me where we're going?"

"I guess I should. We're visiting Roy and Riza. They've helped me quite a lot when I was alone with Selim and I wanted to thank them."

"Shouldn't you go alone?"

"I want them to see that you're back to your old self."

He let a dark smile crept over his face.

"We were never friends, Hawkeye, Mustang and I. They were more like bugs messing in our garden."

"Watch it, Wrath!"

He bowed to dodge the hairbrush she had thrown at him. Her voice was still playful, so he had nothing to worry about. At first, she disliked how he would refer to his past, but now, she was happy to hear him being entirely honest.

"You know, there was always something incredibly wicked with the way you handled people in the past. I don't say I support it, but I've gotten to like it somehow. It's also a part of who you are. I don't mean to go and frighten them. Roy and Riza are friends to me. I want you to let them know that they really have nothing to fear from you anymore. And after all, their baby is born and I've really want to see their little girl."

She walked up to him, replacing his necktie before to run one hand through his hair. He peeked on her cheek, agreeing to go, even if it meant he would have to walk in the outside world. He regretted it pretty soon, in fact, as soon as he felt other people's eyes on him. Everyone remembered the old Fuhrer. He had been a national hero, but everyone now knew the truth. Kids wouldn't look scared, but their parents dragged them the other way, afraid that this man, wait, this monster could do any more harm.

Voices followed them, echoing in the air.

"What are they doing here?"

"It really is King Bradley. What should we do?"

Amelia waved at some people, who shyly waved back. Bradley felt scrutinized from everywhere and was surprised to realize how nervous it made him feel.

"Tell me we're taking a car." He asked her, looking ready to plea.

She shook her head.

"I'm feeling in good shape. Walking there will do us some good. And I want everyone to see that my husband is back."

Hearing that, he realized that she was ready to brag about him. So he wrapped on arm around her shoulders, wondering if she could really be proud to be married to a man such as him.

"You're sure, Amelia?"

"I'm happy with you, Bradley. We fought a lot, but you're finally back to me, in one piece, still alive and breathing. You've lied to everyone, me first, but I was the one you chose to live through it. It had been hard. People have laughed at me, and worse, people have tried to kill me sometimes. When I discovered the truth over my life, I felt betrayed. But I'm over it now. I'm too old to hold any grudges. And besides, it wasn't entirely your fault; we were both trapped in this. I'm happy to know that we've walked this road together, even if we were on different side sometimes."

"Amelia..."

He didn't know what to say to that. It was as if she was finally forgiving him. It felt unbelievable. He was unworthy of her words. But he just held her closer to him. He barely remembered seeing Mustang or Hawkeye. He remembered holding the hand of his wife. Playing with his son when he came back. Sporting outside, slashing his swords through the air. Doing research over the other homunculi, to make sure if there wasn't something he could do about the potential threat of Pride's return. He forgot most of it that night, when Amelia suggested that they shouldn't go to sleep directly.

They collided together before to mix, making love as if there was no possible tomorrow. He possessed her and she dispossessed him and as it ended, they both knew it was only beginning. They relearn tenderness and passion, accepting each of their new limits. She managed to stand his gaze. Be it the look from his human eye or the ouroborous tattoo on the other one. He rediscovered her and himself at the same time. In the morning, Bradley was so wasted, he wondered if he hadn't been beaten to dead and dreamt all these months spent with a long lost forgotten wife.

Then he saw her next to him, barely dressed in a light and daring nightgown. She looked exhausted, but content. She was simply beautiful. His wife, who had aged next to him, supported him, yelled after him, lived for him, day after day. She had paid to get him back to her, in more than one way. Her hair was a mess and so was his heart. He was back in a life that had never been his own. And he had now a chance to live it as he wanted. He was already old. He noticed a few grey hairs on his chest, as if his age was trying to mock him. He didn't really give a damn about it.

His Mrs Bradley was with him. He had to protect her once again, not against his self called Father or any scientist, but from the potential Pride coming back. Selim was slowly growing up. His eyes were still pure and innocent. But if the nightmares did come back, Wrath knew he would have to do something. He wasn't really worried. He had all he could ever asked for. Amelia shifted a little, slightly opening her eyes. They exchanged a frail smile. He wasn't sure he was worth her.

"Hi." She whispered to him.

"Hello, love."

She blushed at the choice of his words.

"Yesterday was..."

She laughed.

"...laughable?"

He sounded unsure and kinda down at her reaction. She shook her head, brushing his face.

"No, it was like going back in time. It was magic."

"And a little too fierce. You've got bruises all over." He realized, ashamed of himself.

In truth, she had just one small bruise on one arm, because he had gotten a little too possessive at some point, but it would heal quickly.

"You're exaggerating things. We both needed it. And we'll just sleep in a little to recover from it."

"You seriously want to sleep?"

"Oh, so you're up for more? What if Selim is already up?"

"What if he's still asleep?"

There was a knock on the door.

"I heard you talking, I'm sure you're up, guys, why aren't you coming for breakfast? I'm starving!" Selim complained.

They truly had a growing boy, who made it hard to spent any quality time together.

"When does school start already?"

"Bradley!"

-The end.

I don't know if this is too abrupt as an ending, but I like it as it is. Don't mind about sharing your ideas over this.


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